His First Love

I always thought I was his first love. Reality struck to me like cold ice when I learnt who he loved the most. I had this false notion that he would give up anything for me, he would come running to me if he had to choose me from anything in this world.  It was shocking but it was true to know that I wasn’t what he liked the most.

Men, they really come from Mars, I’m sure.

It was a weekend, I had just finished my driving lessons, was in high spirits, that the day I finish my classes, I will be driving our car, all through the city (Well… if not city at least around the block) but no… there were no signs from my husband handing the keys of our car. I couldn’t resist. As it was our weekend, we planned to visit a recreation club nearby. I requested him, I would drive the car, he nodded, but he chose to drive, then I ASKED him, he smiled and nothing more. I couldn’t take it anymore, he was the one who asked me to take up driving classes and now he wouldn’t allow me to drive. I yelled at him this time, to leave the driving seat to me (had no choice), he reluctantly moved.

I could see the tension build up on his face, he was not confident about me. His heart was already  in his lungs as I started the car…

I was so thrilled, about two things actually… One, for the triumph I achieved over my husband in getting the car to drive, Two, for actually driving the real car (well the one we drive at the driving school can be controlled by the coach). There was immense pleasure gushing through me while holding the steering wheel in my hand. It was so thrilling while pushing the gear front and release the break…

I actually moved the car on my own, and without any jerks… that was amazing. As the car picked up, he asked me to change the gear (Instructions were welcomed as I was a learner). There was a difference in his tone already.

The moment I changed the gear, “Be smooth with it… It’s a CAR, not a Lorry”.

All my sense organs went numb for a second.

My eyes went blur …, I couldn’t see the road, I immediately turned to my left to see who was sitting beside me.I couldn’t believe my ears…my mouth went dry, I felt like gasping for air as if I couldn’t breathe…, I had goose bumps all over my body. All this happened to at the same second.

The confidence that shot up like a rocket when I held the steering wheel,  came flying down like the balloon that’s out of air… Sweat trickled down my spine.

“Hold the clutch down until you change the gear completely”

“You don’t have to be so hard on the steering wheel”

“Change to first gear the moment to you stop”

“Slow down, You are not  a F1 racer”

It was a 5 minute drive from home to the club, but It took 10 minutes for us to reach there (All thanks to the highlighted Instructions I got from him). My back ‘s already wet from sweat.

The car’s parked. We are walking towards the club entrance,
he says… “I’m sorry love… Its just that I LOVE MY CAR
carA LOT“, he walks away waving away to his species who are violently splashing the water while they swim.

I was coming back to normal. Actually I could see, see better ( yes, i could recognize the other species you see…) the goose bumps had gone, I wasn’t feeling thirsty anymore.

But I still could not believe my ears. He said I LOVE MY CAR A LOT.

Though it was one single sentence it meant many more things.

I was trying to recollect the incident. He was fine when we got into the car. His face changed when I asked to drive the car. His tone got stern while I was driving. He was back to normal when we got out of the car, as if nothing had happened a few minutes ago.

I started analyzing the situation. Why Was he angry at me, because I drove the car? Was he nervous about me driving? Was he worried about me? or Was he worried about the CAR?

The Worst thing was I love “MY” car.

Those words were spinning around my head already. Everybody other than me is enjoying the holiday spirit and I looked like hallucinated spirit.

There were so many wrong perceptions in me that came to light that day.I remember…  He let me read his personal greetings, he cleared bottles on the rack for me to keep my books, he gave me his purse and said what ever mine is yours… That man today, tells me that its “HIS CAR” and indirectly means stay away from it.

I thought I was his first love, I was his first priority. No… I was totally wrong, somebody else shared the place. A Non Living Thing, a machine made of  nuts and bolts, a huge chunk of metal that has no heart, has a priority over me.

It still hurts me when I see him leave home to office in his car, I feel as though it will metamorphose itself to a beautiful lady, once they are out of my sight. I burn to ashes (not literally) when I see him hold the steering wheel, as though they are dancing Ballet. I feel like crushing it to death while I press the break. I feel like choking it to death when I hold the clutch. I feel like like pushing it off the cliff when I change gears…

The only thing that makes me glad is his first love is for a Car.

I always have a happy ending.

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