Jealousy's Funeral


I'm staring at the coffin, plain, wood, filled, when she walks into the sanctuary. I can feel her as her heels pad softly against the flat brown carpet. The weight of the air shifts. Particles gather around me, closing my throat. All I can smell is my wife on her clothes. It's as if their pheromones mixed together just to taunt me. My body heaves forward. I try in vain to blow out stale fearful air, but her presence suffocates me. The word lover whispers in my ear from some unknown voice as I tightly close my eyes. I'm sure the congregation thinks I'm holding back tears for her. I am. I'm not. I don't know. I've never felt jealous in my whole life. I've never understood the nights my wife would cry in our bed or on the floor because she felt I was keeping some dark secret. For her, jealousy lived just under the surface, a constant threat to our marriage. Her crying pissed me off so much; I fantasized about hitting her, just to shut her up. Every time I thought we we're okay, she'd start to question me. We were trapped in a constant cycle.


Yet somehow, we had an open marriage. Well, open for her. Women came and went from her life. I had one rule: she had to tell me. Sometimes, we'd be driving in the car or sitting in bed, and she'd ask, "Don't you worry?"


"About what?"


"These women? Don't you worry I'll fall in love?"


"Fall in love?" I found this question laughable. "I'm confident in us. You won't fall in love." I never believed for one minute that she'd fall in love with these women. Why would she? Women were her friends. She could easily fuck them and keep that friendship. It never crossed my mind she'd fall in love.


I open my eyes and tilt my head back to look over my shoulder. She's taking a seat in the pew a few rows back. I see a tear running down her cheek. "Why are you crying?" I want to scream. "You can't cry. She's my wife. My wife! This is my grief. Why are you here?"


My heart beats faster and faster. I know why she's here. I know that it's her grief too, and I hate it. I hate that I let this happen. I hate that I have to share. I hate that I can't fucking breath. I hate that she had to die for me to feel this.


I look at the coffin. I look back at her. She cocks her head to the side and gives me a sad smile. My heart speeds up more. I blow out air. I stand up.


Everything goes black.


read to be read at yeahwrite.me

Comments

  1. Is this a TRUE story?? Either way it is SERIOUSLY SO GOOD. Well done, you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Five Minute Fiction. However, I hope it is authentic :)

      Delete
    2. VERY authentic, and not awkward ONE BIT.

      Delete
  2. Nicely done -- I so identify with the narrator and want to punch the other woman in the nose...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nice work. I totally bought it until I read the comments. Very believable.

    ReplyDelete
  4. love. so cool that you wrote from male perspective, too. and the whole love triangle thing---oooooh!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. always a sucker for a good love triangle...

      Delete
  5. I felt bad for him too, but this line gave me pause.

    "I hate that she had to die for me to feel this."

    He's not completely innocent, is he?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Interesting point. Do you think he isn't innocent because he never really realized that he loved her, or because she had a reason to be jealous?

      Delete
  6. Beautiful - the writing I mean. Oh men. Why not think women can love women.

    I think you got the very real and honest sense of jealousy, failure, irritation in a marriage. The sense of wanting to hit her because she cries, not understanding she cries because he is closed off to her. And so why wouldn't she look for love.

    This is bloody excellent Shosh!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh my, I'm not sure why your brought tears to my eyes, but you captured it.

      Delete
  7. Incredibly awesome. I loved this.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wow! I totally believed it. I absolutely thought you were a guy with a serious widowerhood problem.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for the compliment. I like writing men. I always say I don't get them, but sometimes I wonder if they make me feel uncomfortable because I do get them...

      Delete
  9. Wow, this is a really powerful story. You captured his confusion and conflicting emotions really well. Great post!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Riveting story! Especially love how you wrote from the male perspective...

    ReplyDelete
  11. This is a really well written piece. I can't believe all you did in 500 words. I am speechless, and that's a big deal because I love to bather on. Great job.

    ReplyDelete
  12. This was great! I really enjoyed this - I'm always in awe of people who can write fiction. And five minutes - please tell me you didn't write that in 5 minutes!! Very nicely done.

    ReplyDelete
  13. So believable and so powerful! What a great story!
    Your descriptions were great. Perfect, even.
    Great job!

    ReplyDelete
  14. I liked how you slowly let us figure out the perspectives and the relationships for ourselves, then end with a bang.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hanging

Resurrecting Levine