Love Is No Big Truth

The following brief but frank exchange took place last night between myself, Grant Wyeth, and the 36 year-old Singapore Airlines hostess I've been engaged in a sexual relationship with these past few months. She had just returned from being away with her job for twelve days. I discovered during this time that she has been having a sexual affair with one of those pilots she works with.

[The front door opens]

36 Year-Old Singapore Airlines Hostess: Honey, I'm home!

Grant Wyeth: Don't "honey' me!

36YOSAH: What's wrong?

GW: I risked my heart for you, and now I've paid the price.

36YOSAH: What price? What are you talking about?

GW: The price. C'est trop cher, as the French say. You made a fool out of me. But the price will be greater for you in the long term. You mark my words.

36YOSAH: I don't have time for these cryptic clues. I think you should just tell me what's on your mind.

GW: Listen to you! I know what you've done. You waltz back in here like everything is fine. You've been having a sexual dalliance with one of the pilots on your flights!

36YOSAH: How do you know that?

GW: A little place called The Internet. It's not just useful for checking the weather conditions in Vienna, you know.

36YOSAH: Well....

GW: So you admit it! You admit you've taken our love to town and sold it for pittance. You admit that flushed away what we shared for a night of cheap passion!

36YOSAH: Of course I admit it! I have needs, you know. I need to be satisfied as a woman.

GW: What, [rips shirt off] is this not enough for you? Does this not satisfy you?

36YOSAH: This? This is not a man. This is not what any real woman would want.

GW: This is a man who gave you his soul. This is a man who was to dedicate his life to your happiness!

36YOSAH: This is a man who is pathetic! You're nothing but a boy drifting through an adult world, Grant. A prospectless no-hoper and an effete, anemic weakling. Your small, limp, ineffectual penis serves as a perfect metaphor for your entire existence!

GW: This is all contrary to what you've been telling me these past few months. You told me I pleasured you in ways you never imagined possible. You told me I was destined to be a great man.

36YOSAH: I didn't get to the age of 36 by being honest. There's so much you have to learn about life. Your naïvety is astonishing.

GW: Then what was this all about? Why have you been with me these last few months?

36YOSAH: All I wanted was a place to stay when I'm in Melbourne. That and to raid your iTunes library. You were laughably easy to take advantage of.

GW: We can work through this.

36YOSAH: See, look at you! You're so fucking spineless.

GW: Spineless? You want some spine then, huh? You want to see my spine, baby? GET OUT! Get out of my house! I don't want to ever see your adulterous face in these parts ever again! You've hurt me so much. You're a despicable human being!

36YOSAH: Fine.

And with that she turned and walked out the door. Hopefully never to be seen again. I retired to my bed where I cried myself to sleep. Will I ever recover from such a horrific trauma? It may sound cliché, but only time will tell.