A Writer's Life

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Saturday, January 9, 2021

When a Husband and Wife Met on Tinder

It wasn’t a good feeling, this attempt at adultery. Is there anything like that? An attempt, per se? Either I am committing it or not. But there is an urge, a broken heart, and dissatisfaction in plenty, along with no appreciation combined, that brought me to this platform - TINDER. Little did I know that tinder is going to break my tender heart! I log in with much hesitation, half convinced I am deleting my account in 5 minutes. But the app keeps bringing forth faces never seen. I feel tempted to go on. Or is it more of an obligation that weak-hearted like me find it impolite to not respond? Uff, it's just an app, after all. And here I go...at first, slow and observant, slowly improving my speed. Days pass. I get more and more matches. More choices. Until I realize I’m a player. Now it's like I am addicted to it. Swiping left mostly and then right at times...now it's like a rhythm. 3 left 1 right.

STOP! I ... I just ..oh no! Was he? ITS A MATCH was displayed all over the screen. Oh yes...I see a red dot over the message icon. I have received a message. My heart skips a beat and yet I dare to see the message awaiting me.

It was from him...my husband!

We both swiped right for each other?! Me by mistake, him... Deliberately, is it? I shudder.

All he wrote was: “so this is where you’re busy then

I responded: ...and you too

Him: Well, looks like this is what it has come down to, we searching for different partners

I: I wonder why it took me so long. You? You must be on tinder for really long.

Him: I created an account today.

I: Me too. Strange! Why today? What triggered you?

Him: I feel ignored and unheard and unloved.

I: The feeling is mutual

Him: Ok then. Keep looking! If you find someone, do let me know.

I: Why? What would you do?

Him: Nothing much. Just wish you farewell.

I: Eager to bid me goodbye?

Him: Both of us are not happy in this relationship. What’s the point of being together?

I: Looks like you found someone already!

Him: I sure did. I found you only to realize I have lost you.

I: You found me but did you want me?

Him: Yes. But not on Tinder.

I: Do you feel a sense of loss then?

Him: Yes and you?

I: No, I don’t. I need to feel appreciated for what I am. That’s what brings me here and I have no regrets other than the fact that the people here care even less. All they need is...

Him: ...Of course they do

I: ...but you don’t. You won’t even come close to me. Why? What have I done to deserve this?

Him: You haven’t done anything wrong. But we have a lot of differences that need to be resolved first.

I: by ignoring each other’s presence, or better still by pretending we don’t exist in each other’s lives...

Him: I know we need to talk. But how? How can we possibly talk when we both have so much to say, so much we have been holding inside us; grudges included. It’s a mix of emotions and no one to hear.

I: The only thing I probably agree with you is this very thing you mentioned. We initiate a conversation but we don’t want one. All I want is to be heard. I waited and waited for my turn. I realized you no longer want to be a part of my everyday life. We are together, socially. We bond well when times are bad and just when we think that things are ok, we are on our separate ways. Back to our lives. There is nothing personal between us now. Only personal lives. And you and I... is long gone by.

Him: Can we get back together ever again?

I: I am broken. I will try but I don’t have any hopes left. Or maybe there is some light in the darkest corner of my heart. Still a candle, almost out of wax, as little as the littlest reasons we fight on. But there is some light. Let's try. Come to our room then...

Him: ...it won’t work this time... bedroom cannot always be the remedy. I feel there is too much unsaid and unresolved between us. Making out always cannot be the answer.

I: Why don’t you come inside first and see how it goes

Him: Well if you insist. I will come inside but I don’t know how to confront you and doesn’t it bother you at all how you will face me?

I: that’s for you to see. Come NOW!

The husband does as he is told. He comes inside hesitantly. He doesn’t want to see his wife and is too heartbroken. However, he enters the room. He is shocked to see his wife lying down with a man next to her. All this while he was at home. How could she? How did they?

Husband: (speechless) what…what is happening here? He turns around and leaves the room.

Not believing why he is doing the moral thing by leaving the room in spite of him being the husband and it being his bedroom and she being his wife. Disgruntled, he goes back and this time enters like a storm only to find his wife is lying down alone. Where is he? That.. that man?!

Wife: Which man? What are you saying? I am lying down under these sheets, all for you. Saying so, she smiles.

The husband is confused for a second and believes what he saw was just some hallucination after he did some immediate checks inside the closet.

He hugs his wife. It’s a bone-cracking hug like he is afraid he will lose her. He kisses her, soft quick kisses at first, really rapid ones. He wants to make sure she is his and his alone. That no one else has taken his place in her life, that no one has touched her but him. He then kisses her lips... never for once leaving them. Just trying to dig deeper and deeper into her. It’s like a stamp, ownership of sorts. And he sheds a tear. Amidst the kiss, the wife sees the tear and wipes it away. She understands he so loves her and this was just a passing phase. Marriage, after all, is a rocky ride. She somehow managed to loosen his grip on her and asked if she could use the restroom and be back in a min. Saying so, she walked to the restroom, opened the door, and asked her boyfriend to leave quickly. He did. She smiled and waved him goodbye. She came back hurriedly, closing the bedroom door behind, and snuggled between the sheets again.

The husband was already asleep, so exhausted with the trauma caused to him by what he thought he saw and also relieved to have her as his own woman, dismissing everything else as just his imagination. The wife slowly pats his back, moves her hand over his soft hair, and kisses his forehead. She then stretches her hands and takes his phone, lying next to him on the other side.

She deletes his Tinder profile and when she is about to delete hers, she sees there is a message awaiting her attention. She just goes to check it this last time and reads what her Tinder boyfriend has written, “check your email urgently”. She does, only to find there is a video of her husband sleeping with someone.

She is shocked at first, then calms down almost immediately. She again stretches her arm, and reaches for the pillow on his side, leaves his phone there, and then gets a knife from under the pillow. Her heart beats so fast and yet she won’t stop to listen to her conscience this time. She swiftly takes the knife and plunges it into his back. Stabbing him. Piercing him. The husband wakes up startled and to stop her, presses her neck with both his hands. She smiles, coughs, and smiles. She can’t take no more. Her windpipe would burst. But she is ok. There is some calmness within her. The sweet feeling of revenge taken!

Not before long, her husband thinks he should instead call for help. He can’t seem to find his phone that is under the pillow but behind him and he can’t turn as he is injured so bad. So when he tries to do that, his hand loses its grip on her neck and she relieves herself and goes to his backside where he is unable to face her. She then takes the phone and throws it into the drawer in the wardrobe. Locks it there to make doubly sure he cannot reach it.

She sits down and sees his face, wrinkled in pain. The creases on his face reminded her of how that young man he once was, has turned to be older, with her by his side. Never even once thinking this could be his end. Not imagining even once, all these years, the woman he lost his virginity with, woke up every day next to, is someday going to murder him.

Then it all comes back to her. How... just how did her boyfriend get his hands on the video of the intimate moments between her husband and that other woman? She quickly wipes her tears and takes her phone. She calls him but her boyfriend won’t pick up. He just won’t. Then she gets a message from him. She didn’t expect it to be another video. But it was! It was a video of hers. Her killing her husband! Now the wife is worried sick. She frantically runs around the house, opening the doors and curtains and every place to find a hidden camera of her boyfriend. She did find, finally. No, not the camera but her boyfriend. But it was too late. She had met her fate.

She glanced through the pool of blood on which her husband lay. She repents but it’s too late. She wishes she had called the ambulance on time. She forces her eyes shut with her mouth twisted in regret and there comes a fresh flow of regretful tears... the last of its kind because now her eyes are turned into stone. So is her heart! Her boyfriend puts a leash on her neck. She is in her own kitchen, all naked, cutting onions on the vegetable board, lost in thought, thinking about all that could be undone. Just then, her neck pains... she is being pulled. Her master needs food. She finishes cooking the food, serves it on a tray. She then kneels down, crawls to her master. He asks her to lick his boots. She does as she is told. He then demands her to feed him. She does as she is told. He asks her to wash the plates. She does as she is told. He tells her to put him to bed, she does as she is told. Only this time he won’t wake up.