There is something wrong with the way men’s brains are wired. Like someone so aptly put it; " men don’t know what they want”.

And there is that "the grass is greener on the other side of the fence” thing that has almost every man, even the ones who lack nothing, busy chasing after women who are way inferior to their current woman. 

How do you explain a man who decides to chase after a house maid, when he is married to a beautiful, sensible, educated woman, the mother of his kids?  The answer is: because he is a man. Well, I am suffering from that disease called "being a man”. Carole walked out on me, and I don’t blame her. I had my head up in the clouds because of Jasmine, I wasn’t thinking correctly.

The interesting thing is that even before Carole walked out on me, I knew it that Jasmine was bad news for me. But that didn’t stop me, no way. And now Carole is gone, I realize that Jasmine, even if she looks like every straight man’s fantasy, is nothing compared to Carole. I miss my Carole!

So, as I sat in my flat trying so hard to pretend that I was ok without Carole, I couldn’t help it but feel a little sorry for myself. Here I was, a grown adult, but behaving like a little boy; still running around, chasing after girls, like a hormonal adolescent.

While most of my friends were steadily dating, and some were married or getting married, I still had my head in a maze. Carole was a good woman. The kind that could put up with most of my nonsense, and still love me for who I am. 

And my reward to her for being such a sweet girl was to continue fooling around. After she left, I pretended I didn’t care that she was gone, thinking I could always replace her.

But the fact is, there are extremely few girls like Carole, and Jasmine certainly isn’t one of those.

One week after the night Jasmine stood me up, and Carole walked out on me, I was nowhere close to forgetting about Carole.  I decided it was time I stopped being silly, and got my woman back. It wasn’t the first time she was leaving me, but this time, she seemed serious about it. 

Another symptom of the "being a man” disease; we always want to see how far things can go before they snap. This time, I seemed to have pushed Carole a little too far.

Buying her a bunch of flowers, and a bottle of her favorite wine, I headed to her place. I cooked up a good excuse, and a good plot to get her back in line, and I was certain it would pacify her. Getting to her place, I was still thinking about my plan when I knocked, and walked in without waiting for an answer, like I usually did.

I mean, this was my girlfriend’s place... Then I saw him. He was seated in the sofa opposite her, and he was looking at me. Carole was also quietly looking at me too. And me, standing there with my bunch of flowers and wine, I seemed the like intruder.

It was obvious; I had just walked in on a man and a woman discussing their relationship. Nothing wrong with that just that the woman in question happened to be my girlfriend! Ok, maybe we had had a small fight, but we hadn’t broken up officially.

This man had no right hitting on my woman!  That’s when I realized that I loved Carol more than I had ever loved any girl. I got so jealous that I was at risk of murdering someone.

So, calmly, I put the flowers and the wine on the table, and walked out. Carole called after me, but I was too dazed to say anything. I got into my old faithful car and drove blindly back to my flat. All this time, my mind was blank.

I didn’t want to think, fearing what I might think of. I parked, climbed up the stairs, walked to my door, and there waiting for me, was Jasmine. The same Jasmine who had stood me up1 I hadn’t seen the chic in a week, and I wouldn’t have minded if I never saw her again in my life.

But there she was, beautiful, but not attractive.  I was wary of her. But when she said, in that bewitching voice, "Shem, we need to talk”, I opened the door and let her in. Truly, men never learn lessons!

Ends