Meeting Her

I met the missus today. Yes, it’s totally warped, but I did. Matt told me this morning, that his wife wanted to go “check out the band at Balaclava”. At first, I was livid. I felt as if she was attempting to intrude into my world, and one in which up till now was inaccessible to her. But later, I thought, why not? I wanted to meet her and to be honest, no matter place to meet than on my home ground where I’m most comfortable in, where I know I thrive.

I do not know when it stopped being a mistake and became a war.

She is not far from how Matt had described her. Pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way, simply dressed with a pleasant-enough disposition. The kind I would want to marry and care for the rest of her life, if I were a man.

Suddenly, I realized it’s not such a good thing, putting a face to she-who-shall-not-be-named.