My husband hates talking about his past relationships, but mostly because of his immediate ex whom he’s direly ashamed of.
When prodded for details, he always tries to shut me up with “Being with Iman was the biggest mistake of my life, I really don’t want to relive it.”
I would never let him off that easy, though, and my questions, barraging torrentially at him, has to be answered.
It’s unhealthy, I know, but curiousity gets the better of me every time. My own past relationship I have dissected, analysed and studied to exhaustion. My neurotransmitters have possibly fried from the frequent synapses from trying to find the answers to: “What did I see in him? Why did we last as long as we did? Does my relationship with Faris construe an emotionally abusive relationship?”
My husband has had a few exes, and the details and chronology of girls have always piqued my interest.
I will tell you why. But first, a relevant preface: My husband is a particularly introverted person.
His first two exes were intelligent and sweet-mannered girls, one of whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. They were from elite schools and graduated as a chemical engineer and a houseman, both under scholarships.
And then came Iman, the third, who was relatively physically unattractive compared to the two, bimbotic (a mass comm student because of a limited capacity to dabble within the fields of science, and studies paid privately by her rich family) and a “party girl” as is often described, with a series of men she’s slept with.
Since my talent has always been in graphical description of things, I’ll describe her here. I promise to be objective, heh.
Her small eyes sits atop a chubby-ish face that’s covered with “birthmarks’, or rather, a myriad of differently coloured and shaped splotches. Her face painting skills are notable however, to the extent that she shifts from an unfortunate 4, to a convincing 6.5 (a 7 might be too generous). Her teeth are jagged rocks in dire need of braces, tinted yellow as a result from a chronic smoking habit. She’s particularly tall and her body, svelte. Despite her traditionally unfortunate features, her bubbly and fun-loving personality evinces a rather attractive girl whom would sweep you off your feet from her sheer exuberance alone.
It was with Iman that my husband got his exposure to “an extrovert’s world” and partook in activities that he now loathes to relive. He partied, drank and immersed himself in the world of TV-worthy dramas; “Omg my friend had a one-night stand on her boyfriend’s bed and he found out because of the sex stains and (haphazardly discarded) used condom!”.
That was Iman’s world, and it also became his.
When he relayed me these details, my mind couldn’t stop its cogs from turning.
He’s a highly rational person, so what caused his lapse of judgement? Will I ever experience the same?
He utterly despises social activities of any sort, so how did he survive the multitude of events and gatherings for almost a year? My husband would rather gouge his eyeballs out with a rusty nail rather than banter with a group of more than 2 people.
Was it curiousity? Was in insanity? Was in hard-hitting infatuation?
In the here and now, he doesn’t want to do anything that doesn’t involve intimate moments together at home. We game, cuddle, have 3 hour talks, and watch movies from my list of favourite classics. If either of us forces the other to attend a social obligation more than once a month, we’d start having divorce attorneys on speed dial.
I guess, what really puzzles me is;
How did he, during that short one or two-year stint, become such a different person?
It terrifies me to no end, because, you see, him and I are together because we are so much alike, and that works for us.
If he could become a different person (whom eventually found himself again) and termed it, regrettably, a “confusing phase of my life”…
Will my turn ever, god forbid, come?