Let him who is without sin cast the first stone !.. Confession of a home wrecker ...

Continuation… Part Two, not the final one ...

... One night the phone rang. Pleasant male voice asked me to go down to the backyard. Which of us is not willing for adventure being 25? A stranger with a gorgeous bouquet was waiting for me in the backyard, leaning on the door of a Mercedes, not a white – but gray, but these are nuances ...

And so began “FIGURE OF A HOME WRECKER” – THE FIRST ONE; WITH A BAD ENDING ...

If just to imagine the existence of a continent, where the world exists inside out. Where people in the morning, instead of vitamins or kefir, drink on an empty stomach serum of truth. I went down to the courtyard, and the stranger, handing a gorgeous bouquet, said: "Hi! I am an asshole and a bastard, whom you will marry in three years, and in another three, you will run away" wherever your feet take you ", because I will be eating your brains out every hour, a teaspoon – it must have been nice... just a little boring ... again, lack of experience ... ".

In the light of previous dramatic actions in connection with the divorce, "upheaval", mental fatigue, I wanted to feel myself a being a little weak, relying on the proposed circumstances. No - I am not a fatalist, in a pure form, maybe sometimes, while allowing myself to be motivated to “catch my breath”. A few years later, my grandmother, who raised two daughters alone, and despite the socialist ideology about the need to preserve a building block of society, remaining a revolutionary inside in everything related to the then understanding of the institution of marriage and family, on my mom’s comment about destiny and predestination - she cursed reassuringly, said: "To shittington come the destiny! Life is like a rope, needs to be taken into your own hands and managed independently!" She, who “ burned her life,” by the way, at a mature age, was rewarded by a much younger widower, and very wealthy by Soviet standards.

As a dowry he had a house and a vegetable garden and even ... 80 thousand in a bank book. God did not give him children, therefore, to my mother and her sister, he sincerely treated him like his own children. My grandmother was bolder than my mother; probably, courage is passed on only through a generation ... But even trusting her mature female wisdom, her experience, I have been trying for more than one year to stifle the voice of common sense in myself. You can not live where you feel bad, but if in comparison with the previous "bad", it is "bad" a little better than the previous one, then maybe this is not bad ...

The manner of speech, melodic timbre of voice, the presence of intelligence, chic costume - nothing betrayed the bastard in a new acquaintance. Again, "signs" ... Here it is, the second desire - a prince in a Mercedes, a magic coincidence of circumstances ... Having decided to drink a cup of coffee, we talked all night in a nearby cafe. So I found out that my restless wonder-neighbor, (she’s a hairdresser), having decided to arrange the fate of all single women in one fell swoop, “signaled” and my phone to the matchmaker. I also learned that the “smart man” is married for the second time, he is twice the happy father and the same unhappy husband.

What drives a woman who decides to try on the status of a mistress? I am not a psychologist! I am a woman who has had the experience of such a relationship, even if once ... So, here are my findings: women's curiosity is primarily (the spark has not flashed, this is not a matter big love); having of free time (I am not married, no children); there is nothing to lose - perhaps I will gain anything... (at most – it could be an experience for me...) ...

Without a shadow of a doubt, I can say for certain that the scoundrels are not deprived a sense of beauty. Feeling carefully all your weaknesses, unfulfilled desires and wonderful dreams, noting the painful sensations when dubbing some significant details of your past - in the beginning, they make your life like a fairy tale. So, I found the Crimea, which, unfortunately, I did not manage to visit until 25 years. Even today, I remember distinctly that morning, when I woke up and saw mountains ... It is 500 km from Dnipro to Yalta - Having left the house at night, you can already be on the pass at dawn and admire this silent majesty of the mountains ... Rocky shores of Koktebel, Foros, Livadia, the moon path on the smooth surface of the sea at Bear Mountain - all this can’t help you fall in love with yourself and not make you look more closely at your guide.

- Well ...If I could know that in three years -on 14th of February - for Valentine’s day ... in a restaurant in Yalta - I will marry this guide ... who is... a bastard ..


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