Had Enough, That’s It, I’m Leaving! How Much More Can I Take!

Ive had enoughI’m leaving! How much more of this can I take!
Ive had enough, Im off! How much longer must I put up with this? The child her constant tiredness help me, help meits endless. And what about me? I want to go out like before! I want sex! I have a job for goodness sake! I just want to come home to my beloved wifea woman, not just a mother I might stay with my mate for a bit, then maybe find a younger woman… Oh, whats the point Sitting at the wheel and thinking that today marked the end of my marriage, I smoked a cigarette with trembling hands.
Our story is as old as time: met, fell head over heels, passion, no thought of consequences, and a few months later she was waving a positive pregnancy test.
Of course, lets have the baby. Well manage, I had said with confidence, and the whole family nodded along, promising, Well help, just have the baby Then came the wedding, the birth, happy tearsa son! And then, that was it The care-free happiness faded, my wife became a shadow of herself: always tired, hair a mess, bags under her eyes, the baby crying day and night, always help me, help me. Where did my girl go? The family quickly disappeared. We were leftjust the two of usfacing all the trials of parenthood alone.
I cant do this anymore! I shouted at my wife today and slammed the door, leaving her crying with our sobbing baby in her arms.
Suddenly, the squeal of brakes. Someone appeared in the headlights: a hunched figure, shrouded in darkness.
Do you have a death wish or something? I yelled, jumping out of the car.
The man in an old raincoat straightened up and looked at me with mournful, elderly eyes and whispered, Yes.
I hadnt expected such an answer, and it caught me off guard.
Do you need help, sir? Are you all right?
I dont want to live anymore.
Now, now. Come on, let me give you a lift home. Maybe talking about it will helpwho knows, I might be able to help, I said, taking the old man gently by the arm and leading him to the car.
So, tell me your story, I said, lighting another cigarette.
Its a long tale, the old man replied.
Im in no hurry.
He looked at me carefully and then glanced at the small photo hanging from my rear-view mirror.
Fifty years ago, I met a girl and fell for her immediately. Things moved fast for us; one minute we were young lovers, the next, we were married, with a childa son, a proper heir. It should have been happiness, but I wanted things to stay the way theyd been: the romance, the excitement, youth and all that. My wife was exhausted, the baby was small, I had to work, but I heaped everything onto her shoulders and didnt pitch in. I met another woman at work, and before I knew it, there was an affair. My wife found out. Divorce. That was that. The new relationship went nowhere, but I didnt care. I carried on as before. My ex-wife remarried, started to look better, our son began calling his stepdad Dad, but I couldnt bother myself to care.
So what did you do then? I asked, nervously lighting another cigarette.
What did I do? I ended up aloneno family, no wife, no kids. Today, my son turned fifty. I went to see him to wish him happy birthday, but he wouldnt let me through the door, the old man began to cry. He said, Youre not my father. Go on, get lost. And he was right. I have no one to blame but myself.
So, where do you want to go? I asked, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
I live just over there. Go ondont worry about me. He got out and shuffled off towards the block of flats next to the road. I waited until he was safely inside and then turned my car around.
On my way home, I stopped at the supermarket and picked up some flowers.
Forgive me, forgive me, I said as I knelt in front of my weeping wife as soon as I got home. Take a break, love.
I took our son from her arms and went into the other room, rocking him as I walked and singing in a hoarse voice, Hush, little baby, dont you cry
My son fell asleep quickly, trusting, his hand resting on my heart that was beating fit to burst. As I watched him, I realised: I want to watch my son grow up. I want to hear him call me Daddy.
Out saving lost souls again? the old mans wife greeted him at the door with a wry smile as he returned home. He hung up his old raincoat and grinned.
Yes, I was. Someone has to teach the younger lot a thing or two.
How do you always seem to know who needs help?
Because I needed help at that age myself
Right. Dinners ready, hero. And dont forgettomorrow night is the party for our sons fiftieth. No lost souls in the evening, understood? She smiled at him lovingly.
As if I could forget. Fifty years for our boy, fifty years of our love. Some things you never forget. Putting his arm around her, the old man walked with his wife into the kitchen, smiling as he did.