Coulda

I could have had a wife who’d eat fish eyes.

Right, I know I shouldn’t have looked.  Or I shouldn’t have noticed.  But she sort of caught my eye, the way she took an interest and liked my fish.

I could have had a wife who got excited about boats.

You could have knocked my hat right off my head when she asked questions.  Mostly around here you say ‘boat’ and they say ‘that’s nice’ and on you go.  She asked what kind.  And she smiled.  And she took me seriously, like I was someone who was worth knowing.  You know, like someone you’d want to introduce to your family, not some stupid foreign kid who never gets anything right.

I could have had a wife who didn’t think I’m embarrassing.

I shouldn’t have stayed, soon as I noticed I liked her.  And she seemed to be liking me.  That’s about the time a married fellow’s meant to hop up and get gone, isn’t it?  But it was so nice to be asked a lot of questions, and to get smiled at, and… well, she was so pretty.  So easy.  The kind of girl who’d build a life with you and say nice things about you to her friends.  She’d sing in the kitchen and smile when you got home.  She’d… she’d…

Damnit.  I’m a horrible husband.  I should go home right now.  I’ve got a wife.  I love her.  She’s sick, damnit, it’s more wrong to think like this when you’ve got a sick wife.  I just… just a moment more of this smile.  It’s not cheating to enjoy a smile, is it?

I used to have a wife who smiled.