Oh, yes….I do remember Evan.
Evan was (and still is, I suppose) a successful attorney who served as a guest professor in a political science class I took twenty five years ago. Oh, my! Talk about eye candy! Evan was everything a woman could want. Confident, successful, unassuming, and oh-so-easy to look at. He had a way about him. A way of looking right at you when you spoke so you knew he was really listening and absorbing everything you said. He spoke about politics but he also spoke about community involvement and personal committment. He volunteered at a community center one evening a week and invited us all to find some way of giving back to the community. I asked him for suggestions and he said they were looking for lots of volunteers at the center he served. Believe it or not, I signed on as an aerobics instructor. I was pretty hot stuff back then and teaching aerobics was something I could actually do.
The semester wore on and there was an undeniable chemistry between Evan and I. I was only a year or two past DH’s one and only affair of our marriage and I was still raw. Still trying to believe in the core values that had supported my belief system for so many years. I’d been a good wife, a good mother, a hard worker and my husband had an affair. And I couldn’t even figure out why. He kept telling me “It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do. It just happened. I broke it off with her because I don’t want to lose you.” Well, Hell’s Belles! If you can’t tell me why it happened and you can’t tell me anything I did or didn’t do to make it happen, how do I know it won’t happen again???” Yeah, I was pretty raw.
Evan talked to me about political awareness and committment. We talked about a lot of things. He listened to everything I said. He placed his hand on the small of my back when he opened doors for me and rested his hand on my shoulder when he paused at my desk to lean down and say something. He never asked me what was for dinner or where his brown socks could be found. I certainly couldn’t imagine Evan leaving toothpaste all over the sink or clipping his toenails in the living room.
The semester ended and I continued to volunteer at the center. The connection between Evan and I was definitely there. We stopped for lunch a couple of times. We talked a lot. I found myself working out all the time. I weighed 118 and thought I was fat. What would Evan think of my body? Sometimes I’d catch him looking at me and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I knew he respected my marriage and would never make advances without encouragement but I also knew he was mine for the taking. Like a chocolate covered bon-bon, I could scoop him up, pop him in my mouth and he’d melt like butter on my tongue. I knew that. I wondered what it would be like to have an affair with Evan. I fantasized about it. I thought about it when I ran. Would Evan like my thighs? I’d run a few more laps. Would Evan like my belly? I’d do another fifty crunches. What if I were to take the step? What if, what if, what if? I found myself thinking about Evan all the time. I pushed myself so hard. Run farther, work longer, push it to the limit. Night after night, I was out there burning up the pavement. Thinking about Evan. Thinking about my marriage.
The community center threw a party for all the volunteers. Evan came to me everytime they played a slow dance and I swear, I was literally falling apart. You could almost see the sparks flying. I knew I was right on the brink. I knew I had to make a decision.
I quit the center the next day. Walked away and never looked back. I found one little card on my windshield a couple days later. Just one little card and all it said was, “I know. I understand. You know where to find me.”
I swear, I think that’s what ruined my ankles. Pounding the pavement day after day after day. Running for Evan. What if, what if, what if….
I thought about Evan this morning when I was on the treadmill. I thought about him because I was thinking about a 3FC Retreat. What if? What if it happened? Would I feel like I could hold my head up and know that I’d done everything I could? Would I feel proud to show my 3FC friends the results of almost two years of their support and encouragement? Would they be able to tell how much I appreciated them not giving up on me? What if it really happened?
Weight is at 191 this morning. I pushed it. 3.0 mph at a 3% incline for an hour. I pushed it for you, Chicklets. What if a retreat happened? What if it really happened? Would you feel proud of what you’d done to prepare for it? What if, what if, what if?
4:30 update – DH and DS are watching some kind of eating competition on TV. Guys are stuffing themselves with as many hot dogs as they can eat. Round 2 – As much pizza as they can eat. Round 3 – As much ice cream as they can eat. DH and DS are cheering them on and I can hear comments such as:
“OMG, Dad, he’s gonna barf!”
“Yeah, (huh, huh, snort), he can’t do it. Look at his stomach! He’s not gonna make it!. I could eat more than that!!! (snort, snort)”
I wonder if Evan’s in the phone book……