About Me

She was walking down a cobblestoned street in central Munich. She was wearing skinny jeans and a breezy white blouse.  The summer sun made her skin glow.  A light breeze ruffled her long blonde hair, she push a lock of it out of her face as she turned toward me.  Her stunning blue eyes gave a glint of recognition, and she smiled broadly. The helles I ordered had arrived, cold and refreshing on a warm summer Barvarian afternoon. I was sitting in the shade of a large chestnut tree.  She walked into the beer garden I was at, quickening her pace as she approached.  Then she brushed past my table at almost a jog to reach the one behind me.  She gave a big enthusiastic kiss to the man sitting there.  They began speaking to each other in German – lost in each others company.

I sighed, took a sip of my beer, and thought, “damn, I need a girlfriend.” It was at that moment that my mind was made up.

Of course, it’s going to be complicated.  The wife is probably going to object.

Mid-Life Crisis? Second teen-age-hood?

I’m 48, married, have 2 boys - one in middle school, one in high school.  And, I’m terribly unhappy.

The marriage stopped working years ago.  I don’t know why, I don’t know how.  It just slipped away in taking care of the day to day life. We became too familiar with each other, taking each other for granted, I guess.

I honestly don’t want to tear apart my family.  I know how bad that would be for the kids.  At the same time, I’m so tired of living without – well – a good friend, who cares about me – without love. Someone who will cheer me up when I’m down... Who won’t criticize everything I do.  I want to be loved. Is that so wrong?

Life is too short to be without a lover – and the years are quickly running out (hmmm, that does sound like a mid-life crisis).  I want to have a romantic dinner in Paris.  I want to go skinny dipping under a full moon at a beach on St. Barts.  I want to steal away for a weekend in at a small inn in the Cotswolds.  I want to camp on the beach with my lover in Tahiti.  I want to sip champagne with my girlfriend in front of a fire place in a chalet in Chamonix as a snowstorm rages outside.

Of course, the obvious question is, why not take the wife?

Well, let me explain.  I’m an executive with a corner office.  I’ve achieved a certain level of success.  I travel a lot on business.  From time to time, there are weekends which need to be spent in far flung cities.  A few years ago, I had a weekend where I would be “stuck” in Paris – yeah, I know, rough duty.  I had a Thursday morning meeting in London, and a Monday engagement in Paris.  Like I sad, rough duty?  So I asked the wife if she would come out to Paris for the weekend.

My hotel was paid for - 5 star, expense account accommodations in the heart of Paris on the right bank of the Seine. My meals, even if outrageously expensive, were covered by the company.  I could get her out there in business class on frequent flyer miles. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said “That’s a lot of jet lag for a weekend.  And what will I do with the boys?”  Despite having friends who would gladly take the boys for the weekend, she decided not to go.  Jet-lag – seriously?!?  It’s not like she’s working.  It’s not like she hits the ground running and has to make a presentation where a $10 million deal hinges on sharp wits and quick answers – she can sleep when she feels like it, be awake when she feels like it.  Granted, it’s not New York, but there’s stuff open ‘till 2 or 3 in the morning, and the patisseries open at 5 a.m. Well, that’s when I gave up.

Heavy sigh. When you offer your wife a romantic weekend in Paris, and she declines – “jet lag” – yeah, that’s pretty much the sign that the honeymoon is over.

Am I evil?  Am I wrong? I don’t know.  Don’t try to change my mind.  I know in my heart what I need to do.

So, I will take a lover (or try really hard to).  In a nod to the 21^st century – I am going to blog my affair (perhaps affairs, maybe I’ll be lucky) – the good, the bad, the ugly.  I’ll put it out here for you – dear reader - to see.  I won’t be surprised if you chose to follow anonymously – as it all does seem a bit unsavory.  Leave a comment – anonymously.  Give me your support, give me your criticism.

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