I was snooping via google for an ex-boyfriend from a past life and found that he appears to still be married. He cheated on her with me. Kind of. As I thought about that whole mess from eons ago, I realized it’s a story I should share with you. Not that you care, but it is my blog after all.
I think I was barely 21 when I met this guy. His name was Rheza and he was Persian. He looked just like David Byrne from the Talking Heads. Not quite as pale, though. He was buff, lean and 10 years my senior. He would dry his dark wavy hair by thrumming his fingers quickly back and forth over his head. He tried it on me once and I almost fell asleep because it was so relaxing.
Not long after we started seeing each other regularly, I was at his apartment which he shared with another countryman watching TV, when there was loud banging on the door. Rheza got up, looked out the peephole, looked back and me, and stepped outside shutting the door behind me. I knew who it was. Her name was Kate and I had been informed that they were recently broke up, but that hadn’t stopped her from calling or stopping by at random times.
When Rheza came back inside I decided enough was enough and he had to tell her to stop bothering us. I don’t remember exactly how our conversation continued from there except that he finally told me that he couldn’t tell Kate to never call again; they were married.
Stunned, horrified and furious, I ran out the patio door and he followed, grabbing my arm to stop me. He sat me down in the quiet area between the apartment complex buildings and explained how his visa had expired and they had married so he could remain stateside.
Our relationship from there obviously got complicated, Kate was always in the background but Rheza assured me he would divorce her…eventually. He didn’t love her, he was just using her until he didn’t need to anymore. He flew me to Florida and introduced me to his older brother, and took me to Disney World. But in the pictures that I still have the tension is visible, made worse by the fact his brother called me Kate several times during the trip. By the time we flew back home, Rheza and I were barely speaking to each other.
Not too much longer after that, we got into yet another argument about who knows what and he slapped me hard enough to make me see stars. He was immediately apologetic but for me it was the final nail in the coffin that held our relationship.
So now, over 20 years later it would appear that his marriage hadn’t been the sham he had tried to make me believe it was since they are still married. Not sure how they reconciled his cheating or his violent temper, but I also can’t help but wonder if I had been thinking of them, had they ever thought about me? Did my name come up during arguments, maybe even still? Is that an egotistical thought? Sometimes I do wonder, what if, but not for long. I remember that dizzying slap, the grip on my arms that left bruises, and the fact that he (and she) are still both 10 years my senior and I know I’m not missing out on a thing. We often have to rerun our past to know our future is pretty darn good.