SOMETHING HAPPENED to me that made me realise the importance of loyalty.
I am in a good position to talk about this because I was once married, but messed up. Now I am alone with one leg lost to diabetes and no one to care for me.
My job involved travelling to the various Eastern Caribbean islands. After several years doing this, I developed a cross section of relationships – some wholesome, others flirtatious – but all very enjoyable.
Because I got the sexual satisfaction I wanted, I never once thought of getting married. Neither did I give any thought to women other than considering them as my playthings.
My philosophy was to have a good time at all costs. I did not intend to get married. In those days I used to say: ‘You don’t buy a cow when you can get milk free’.
For more than 14 years I lived this lifestyle until I met M. In her I met my match. She knew just how to excite me.
The thing is, the more I pursued her, the more she resisted me. But like the hunter I was, the more she played hard to get, the more I chased her.
Before I knew it, all I could think of was this lovely creature. I wanted to be with her at all costs. So at the “young age” of 42 I took the plunge and popped the question. She accepted and about six months later we were married.
At first, things went really well. I was happy; she seemed happy; we enjoyed each other’s company, and we started to make plans for children.
Then the dream life began falling apart – and it was all my fault.
In chasing J, I never realised how different we were. I was a party man, womaniser, and a junk food junkie.
On the other hand, she was the type who would prefer to cuddle up at home in front of the TV rather than liming with friends; she was a one-man woman and very picky about what she ate.
Given these differences and my waywardness, less than 18 months after our wedding, I started flirting again. At first I only did it on business trips, then I became bolder and began having affairs here.
When J finally caught on to my loose ways and confronted me, we fought over it and I threw her out. She was pregnant at the time, and, with nowhere else to go, she went back to her country.
She had a boy but I don’t know for sure as she never spoke to me again, and her family always kept her away from me.
Ironically, about five years after I finished with J, I was diagnosed as a diabetic. All my junk food and liquor had caught up with me.
But that still did not stop me from being a womaniser. I continued my “wufless” lifestyle bedding as many women as would allow me and not sticking to my diet, though I was warned by the doctor that I needed to pay greater attention to my health.
Well, I did not have to wait long before I paid the price for brutalising my body. And it came at the most embarrassing time. I had a lot of appointments and a heavy date with a young 20-something girl. Because I had so much to do, I didn’t eat a proper breakfast or lunch, so by the night time I was exhausted.
By the time I got to the young girl’s apartment, I barely made it up the stairs and through her door before I collapsed. She had to call an ambulance for me as I had passed out. That was my first diabetic coma. After that I had to take insulin.
Within months my health deteriorated even further as I began having kidney and high blood pressure problems.
I went from being a high flyer to keeping close to home, taking my medication and being very careful about what I ate. I had to give up my job and the money that once flowed was reduced to a trickle, but I am surviving.
I haven’t met anyone else since and I’m really lonely as I have few friends. I know that if I had acted differently when I needed to, J and our son would have been here to comfort me. But I blew it.
I don’t need anyone’s pity. That’s not what I’m about.
I just want people to realise that when you have a good partner in your life you should not abuse or mistreat that person, because no one knows what the future holds.
