Coupling

"Let there be spaces in your togetherness." - Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet

So, there is this couple I know vaguely. Their daughter is in class with my daughter and they work out at the same gym that I do. The wife is a little bit overweight. Nothing extreme. Average, really. She's an attractive woman, dresses well, seems to have her act together, appears to be a good mother.

The husband is more fit than she is, but to be honest, they are very well matched in appearances. You know, one isn't extremely better looking than the other. They fit.

She's in the gym every day, sweating her ass off, working out hard. Really hard. MUCH, much harder than I ever would. Ever.

Dickhead is standing around, doing not much of anything, berating her the entire time. I swear, I want to punch him. They end up arguing all day every day, and she's practically in tears by the time its over. She probably can't lose any weight because she probably goes home and eats a pint of ice cream in the shower, just to extend the time away from him and feed the pain.

Part of me wants to scream at her, "Honey...you don't need that in your life."

Part of me wants to scream at him, "Dude, you should thank God someone is sleeping with you."

All of me is just very, very happy that it's not me anymore.

What is it about people that makes the thought of being alone worse than living like that?

I have no idea, but that won't be me - ever again.

And here's a public service announcement to the men of the world: No matter how manly you are, a tattoo on your ankle makes you look like a tool. Seriously...chicks get tattoos on their ankles, men cannot.