His Name Was John

A simple name, but it turned out to be one that would tear at my heart like no other. I met John soon after I returned to Hamilton from Windsor in 1986. No, he wasn't tall, dark and handsome. I take that back! Yes, he was very handsome, but at 44, his hair had already turned gray. The eyes were deep, deep brown and the smile was contagious. It took me about five seconds for my heart to react and become totally smitten with this man.

John and I immediately began dating and during our second month, he proposed. John bowled with his brothers and some friends, so at their annual bowling banquet, he got down on one knee in front of family and friends on the dance floor and asked me to marry him. I leapt into his arms and of course, answered yes!

I thought my life had really turned around. I had a great job, two terrific daughters and now a wonderful, stable and fun-loving man to make my life complete. I was so in love with John and with life itself. Who could ask for more?

John and I did everything together. He loved to dance, as did I. We saw shows and live theatre, went to fairs and festivals, swimming at the beach and so on. Every minute with him was heaven. I adored him with every breath I took. Then one day, I got a call from a woman I'd never met.

"Leave John alone," she said. "He's mine and we're engaged."

I was stunned. How could this be? I spend nearly every day with John. This just wasn't possible. Of course, I told her I didn't believe it, so she told me where she lived and invited me to come to see her. We could talk. Shaking, I agreed and hung up the phone.

That day, I learned that John was living a double life. This woman showed me her ring and even some of John's things in her apartment that I recognized. My heart was broken and I sobbed for days and only managed to control myself at work. Though he called, I refused to speak with him.

Finally, he showed up at my door. Those big, brown eyes and contagious smile. What could I do? John explained that the woman was like a mother to him and they were just friends. The ring meant nothing. After some discussion and passionate kisses, I forgave him.

For the following year, it was up and down with John. Sometimes, I couldn't get a hold of him – he disappeared for days at a time. I had my suspicions, but could never really prove anything and I can't tell you how many tears I shed. I clung onto the hope that it was all my imagination. During that time, we moved to Dundas to share an apartment together, since I was working in that town at the time. Then, one night the other shoe fell. He wanted to go out and I got in my car and followed him. He drove up the mountain to where the "other woman" lived and went into her apartment. Not wanting a terrible confrontation, I left a note on his car letting him know that I knew where he was and likely, what he was doing as well.

Needless to say, the truth finally sunk in and I knew for sure that he was being unfaithful. It was truly heartbreaking. He was my dream man – the one I wanted so much to spend the rest of my life with. How could he do this to me?

As with anything in life, time heals but it took a good year for me to get over him and even think about seeing anyone else. Even though I no longer hurt inside, I still reserved as small space in my heart for him and it is stillthere today. A short time later, I heard through his brother's wife that he living with someone new, so the "other woman" wasn't the chosen one after all. A few years later, I got the news that John had cancer and was struggling to survive.

In the summer of 2002, he called me. He wanted to see me, since I just lived a few blocks away. How he knew that, I'll never know. Anyway, I went to see a man who was just a shell of his former self, but he still had those big, brown eyes and contagious smile. I felt very sorry for him as I could clearly see that cancer and time had worn him down. The part of me that still loved this man longed to hold him. The funny part is that John thought he could get his way with me, so I didn't dare get close to him. I excused myself to use the bathroom and saw "woman" things all over the place. Still a player! I couldn't believe it.

On January 1, 2005 I read John's obituary in the newspaper. I couldn't believe he was gone. Today, when I think of John, my heart still aches just a little bit for what might have been. Why would any man want to be a "player" pretty much until the end? I find this so hard to fathom. However, I have no doubt that today, he looks down from heaven finally knowing just how much he hurt me. I am also sure he hurt quite a number of women during his lifetime. I wonder how that makes him feel.