I sat at one of those picnic tables at that park by the river, the one that runs along the river for about a quarter mile.  After lunch I told my boss I’d see him tomorrow, needed to just sit outside for a couple of hours and gather my thoughts, dark times for me now.  Agnes, my girlfriend, told me last night that she had fallen for someone else, a guy she’s known for a while, Todd.  I know Todd, I like Todd, a good dude.  Really.  I mean that.  And I told her that, too.  And I told her I had no problem with her seeing Todd.  I’m an open and free kind of guy.  Whatever you need, that’s my motto.  Having more than one lover takes some juggling, but it’s a good juggle, like Oscar Wilde said, “The anxiety is unbearable.  I only hope it lasts forever.”  I’ve been comfortable, satisfied, and let me tell you, death was knocking at my door.  Not the end, when the thumping of the heart is followed by black, but rather the true death, the death of the living, of your blood and breath.  If you’re living for life, scratching for every crumb then you always find yourself holding onto the edge, praying the finger tips can sustain you one more time.  And you’re always surprised by how many people around you live to die, refusing to admit that comfort is the first step to death.  And here’s another quote from Mr. Wilde, “Women are made to be loved, not understood.”  And he’s right, of course.  Understanding is not the issue.  It’s love, the antithesis of understanding.  If you expect to understand a woman you love, the love most hope to envelope themselves with, then you’re just asking for love’s suicide.  In other words, think the opposite of most of the shit you hear in love songs, in those sugar sweet love cards, those melodramatic romance movies.  Like honesty is a pillar in a good relationship.  Bullshit.  Honesty is a bullet right in the heart.  Sometimes secrets are good things.  To be honest, okay, not a good phrase in this context, but I’m just saying Agnes doesn’t know about a couple of lovers I’ve had for the past year.  My call on these, know how it would wound her, lots of anger, jealousy, things of a hurtful nature.  Maybe that’s what is at issue here.  I’m a firm believer that everyone should have secrets, a healthy belief for the soul, especially true for dealing with Agnes, a woman I love dearly even though she lives in a romantic world of the worst kind, a world I will never live in, though I have visited many, many times, much to my chagrin.  For her, like most of the sheep baaa-baaaing in America, it’s all me or nothing.  A key ingredient for baking a fresh loaf of disaster.  And when I explained to her that she could have me AND Todd, that I was down with that, she just shook her head and told me that would never work, that I needed to take a fast train back from hippieland.  And believe it or not, she’s dead on, in her world it just doesn’t work.  So, anyway, I’m out sitting on this picnic table trying to clear my head, have a few smokes, and, more honesty here (don’t, I know), smoke a joint when these two Jettas pull up, silver, both of them, and park right next to my Karman Ghia.  This dude steps out of one and a chick out of the other.  They walk over together to the table next to mine.  The dude is wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.  He sits on the table and fires up a smoke while the chick walks down to the water’s edge, about forty feet away, slips off her sandals and steps into the water.  She laughs then quickly steps back onto the bank and into her flops.  I watched her closely because, to be honest (I know), she was hot, a nice summer skirt, green, with a white tank-top, a gorgeous smile, and she pranced up to the table and sat next to the dude all the while giving him a coquettish smile.  And I watched them for a few minutes, pretty close really.  And I guess I watched a little too close because they both started looking at me.  Okay, I thought, maybe my nose is sticking in where it shouldn’t, so I turned my eyes to the river, give them the impression I’m minding my own business.  And what a fucking beautiful day it was, sky the color of faded Levis, a cool light breeze blowing at my back, fish popping the water all the way down the river, even a big turtle coming up for a breather right in front of the couple next door, the dude pointed at it for the chick.  The more I thought of Agnes the more I wanted to know about these two.  Were they friends?  Lovers?  Siblings?  Co-workers?  I stole glances every few minutes, both smoked, both talked, both smiled and laughed.  Whatever their relationship they both seemed to be enjoying themselves and each other.  Yep, I thought, there is intimate bliss going on here.  At that moment my cell phone rang to reveal a call from Agnes.  Crawling back on her knees is what came to mind, not that I believed for one minute she had decided to cut the shackles of her I-only-love-you existence.  Nope, when I saw her name on that little screen I fully believed Todd had felt the cold blade of Agnes’s heart.  So when I pushed the button and said hello I was shocked to hear the first words from my love’s mouth, “I just wanted to tell you that I think you are sick and perverted.  People aren’t meant to live like animals, Butch.  Decent people only have one love at a time.”  And when she finished I told her that her brother must not be a decent man because he had three children from his first wife, two from his second wife, two more from two girlfriends, and one more from his current wife.  And I bet you’re thinking this put her in her place.  Nope, this just gave her more sticks to throw.  “Don’t you get it, Butch, my brother had these women one at a time.”  At that point I pushed the button that ended our conversation.  I must have spoken with a little heat because when I looked over at the table of romance they were both staring at me, you know, those looks of curiosity.  “Just a woman who is mad because she doesn’t understand why she is dumping me,” I said.  They both laughed and then went back to their worlds.  I fired another cigarette and went back to studying the river.  Over the next 45 minutes they smoked a few cigs, and I caught her checking the cell a couple of times.  And the dude seemed to have a permanent grin etched in his face.  Then suddenly they stood, stretched, and walked back to their cars together.  And so did I, just wanted to see if I could hear any of their conversation.  They laughed and smiled the whole damn way, just mocking my crumbled relationship with Agnes.  And as they stood by the chick’s car I walked directly behind them.  My Ghia was parked on the other side of the dude’s Jetta.  I slowly made my way behind them, almost a crawl, and I heard the chick say, “I had a good time with you today.”  She opened her car, slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.  By this time I’m sticking my key into the door of the Ghia pretending it’s just another day in the despair of ideal love.  And this is what happened next.  The dude bent down like he was telling her goodbye, maybe even kissing her, some act of kindness and intimacy was taking place, when my phone went off again.  When I pulled the cell from my pocket I noticed they were again looking at me.  I glanced at the screen and, thank god, it wasn’t Agnes.  It was from Sloan, and when I said hello she said she missed me and she had to see me.  The dude raised up and turned to me, “Hey man, is she still mad at dumping you?”  I laughed as I told Sloan I missed her and wanted to see her, too.  And when Sloan began telling me she wanted to kiss every inch of my body the dude said something else to me.  I asked Sloan to hold a sec and told him that this one seemed to love me, at least right now.  “Well just remember that there isn’t any right now, there’s the future, what you hope or what you dread, and there’s the past, what’s already happened.”  And with that he bent down and kissed her, turned to me and said with a grin, “Now all I have is future kisses and the ones in the past,” then he closed her door, gave me a peace sign as he got in his car.  He slowly pulled away as he followed the girl in the green skirt.