In a world of gray–nothing quite right, nothing exactly wrong–there are still a few absolutes. Never wear checks with plaids, never drink red wine with tuna fish and never get involved with someone you work with. Now, of these three, which do you think is most often violated?
Pamela is about to get married. But before she sets a date she would like to clear up one little matter. It’s a loose string from her past that might unravel her future. It goes back 14 years when she was in early twenties, working for an insurance company. She was a newlywed, in love, sort of, with her husband.
“Some parts of our marriage worried me, but I was not overly troubled by them. If I met a man who attracted me, I would ask myself, `Is he worth breaking up my marriage?’ The answer always quickly came back, NO! Until I met Ken. The same question flipped through my head, along with the same answer, but this time, not as quickly. Ken was bright, funny, sweet, good looking. I enjoyed seeing him. I was falling in love with him, but didn’t care to admit it.”
A year later, Ken was hired by a company on the West Coast. Pamela hated to see him go. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him, but she didn’t feel she had the right.
“I had the feeling he was attracted to me, but respected my marriage. I would have given everything I owned not to be married. I was in love with Ken and couldn’t tell anyone anything about it. I missed him terribly when he left.”
A couple of months later, Pamela learned her husband didn’t take their wedding vows too seriously. He was having an affair. That was all Pamela needed to hear. She called Ken and called again several more times over the next few months. She told him all about the ups and downs of her mixed-up life.
“I was separated, reconciled and pregnant within a seven-month period. Ken was always understanding, whether I was contemplating moving out West or getting divorced.” The last time they talked, she told him she was expecting a baby. He ended the conversation short and that was it. Two weeks later, she heard he was getting married.
“I thought either he felt he didn’t have to tell me what was going on with him or I had somehow done something horrible to hurt him. All these years, I’ve worried that I hurt him. I hope he is happy, in good health and with a good woman. I also wish there was some way of telling him all this without causing pain or embarrassment for anyone. Maybe he reads this column.”
Audrey: “At my last part-time job, two married men, both in administration and both with lovely families, made a bet to see which one could date me first. Every time I turned a corner, one of them would be there. It was disgusting. I was a 50-year-old widow at the time and I had worked too hard on my 21-year marriage to interfere with someone else’s. Married men cheat because other women let them. I quit that job.”
Joanie: “I never knew that guys gossip worse than girls. I worked in a big office with lots of young people. We would all see each other in the cafeteria. Over my first summer there, I dated quite a few of the guys. Some I was intimate with, some I was not. But to hear them tell it (it got back to me) I was the Whore of Babylon. The snickering and poking when I walked by got so bad I quit a job I really liked.”
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Does it matter who says “I love you” first? Did you say it first and regret it? Were you glad you waited or happy you stepped up to bat? Do men have to say it first? Send your tale to Cheryl Lavin, Tales from the Front, Chicago Tribune, 435 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611. Include day and evening phone numbers. Letters may be used in whole or in part.
