I was at a Christmas party that was held at a bar. I was sitting at a table with three women, all of them past their prime.
Each of them expounding on the virtues of love.
I laugh at them. “Love is for fools and fairy tales.”
“No, no, no.” They all decry. “You are just bitter.”
“Not so,” say I, “I have found wisdom.”
“So sad we are for you,” They say with faux pity.
I turn to the first woman, “Thirteen years you have been with your boy, yet no ring on your finger.”
“I’ve told him he has until Christmas.” She says with a sigh.
“Nor children?”
“Someday.”
I smile at her. Each week she dances with her friends and not him. Married they might become, but their relationship is doomed, for he must capitulate, when he hasn’t so far.
The second woman has lost her beauty long ago, and seeks redemption in the laps of men that do not respect her, yet still she defends love because without it she has no hope.
The third tells me about how wonderful her marriage is.
I ask her if it is her first.
“No, the first one was awful, he showed me no love. Nice he appeared, but nice he was not.”
“Did he abuse you?”
“No.”
“Or use harsh words?”
“No.”
“Then what was his fault?”
“He ignored me.”
He did not excite her. Poor fool that he was. “Tell me of your love.” I speak with a sly smile.
“I love him more than anything, he has taught me so much.”
“How so?”
“He is an alcoholic, I learned how to give, and patience. He is difficult, and wanton, and love makes me stronger. For him I endure and suffer, because of my love. I have grown with my love of him.”
“The love you have, is not something I want.”
“I have seen you kiss a woman.” The married one says with a hint of wistfulness. “You cannot kiss a woman like that without loving her.”
“Which is more tart, the first kiss or the kiss when a man says he loves you?”
“They are different.” They reply with a pause.
“I will take passion over love, every time.”
“”One must have a heart, for passion to burn.”
“Not so, my heart was cut out, and I am happier for it.”
“Who made you so bitter, why say such a thing?”
“There is no one, that has made me so, each woman is like a snowflake that starts to fall, one is nothing, nor two, but eventually with enough snow, you get an avalanche that cannot be stopped.”
“You are like winter.” They say with dismay.
“Not so, for passion burns me.”
“Don’t you fear being alone?”
“One can be more alone with people, then by one’s self. There will always be another woman.”
“Not true.”
I smile and say, “Watch.” and go nearby to a blonde that I spied. With guile I speak with her, until she kisses me on the cheek. I return to the three.
“You will never be happy without love.”
“People that worry about happiness, seldom are.”
