**Diary Entry**
Ive had enoughIm done! How much longer can I take this? The constant exhaustion of parenthood, the endless pleas for help and all I want is to feel alive again, like I used to! I want intimacy! I work all day, only to come home to a wife whos no longer the woman I fell for. Maybe Ill crash at a mates place tonight, find some young thing to distract me Bloody hell.
Sitting behind the wheel, fuming, I lit another cigarette. Today was the final straw between me and my wife.
Our story is as old as time. We met, fell madly in love, lost ourselves in passionnever thinking about consequences. Then, a few months later, she showed me the test. Two lines.
“Of course well keep it,” I said confidently, and all the aunties and uncles nodded in approval, as if to say, “Well helpjust give us grandchildren.”
Then came the wedding, the pregnancy, the tears of joya son! And just like that, our carefree happiness ended. My wife became a shell of herselfexhausted, unkempt, endlessly nagging about the baby, day and night. Always needing help.
Where was the girl I married? Our families vanished the moment we needed them most. Now, it was just us, drowning in parenthood.
“Im not ready for this!” I snapped at her today before slamming the door, leaving her clutching our baby.
Screeching brakesa hunched figure appeared in front of my car.
“Trying to get yourself killed?” I jumped out, storming toward the man.
He straightened, his sad, weary eyes meeting mine.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Stunned, I faltered. “Need help, old man? Let me take you home. Maybe I can do something.” I guided him to the passenger seat.
“Go on, then,” I said, lighting another cigarette.
“Long story.”
“Ive got time.”
The old man studied me, then glanced at the photo dangling from the mirror.
“Fifty years ago, I met a girl. Fell hard. Everything moved fastbefore I knew it, we were married, had a son, an heir. Shouldve been happy, right?”
“But I wanted the old days backpassion, excitement. My wife was exhausted, the baby relentless. I left it all to hernever lifted a finger.”
“Found another woman at work. Got messy. My wife found out. Divorce. The other woman didnt stick around either, but I didnt care. Lived like I pleased.”
“She remarried, got her glow back. My son called another man Dad. And I let it happen.”
“And you?” I asked, lighting another smoke, nerves frayed.
“Me? I kept chasing the high. No family, no wife, no son. Todays his fiftieth. Went to wish him happy birthdayhe shut the door in my face. Said, Youre no father to me. Keep living like a fool.” The old man wept. “My own fault.”
“Right. Where should I drop you?” My fingers drummed the wheel.
“Just here. Dont worry about me.” He shuffled toward a block of flats.
I watched until he disappeared inside, then turned the car around. Stopped at the shops, bought flowers.
“Forgive me,” I whispered, kneeling before my weeping wife. “Rest, love.” I took our son from her arms, carried him to the nursery, rocking him gently, humming an old lullaby.
To my surprise, he dozed off quickly, his tiny hand resting on my pounding heart. I stared at him, overwhelmed. I want to watch him grow. I want to hear him call me Dad.
“Rescuing another lost soul?” My wife smirked as I walked in later. The old man chuckled, hanging up his coat.
“Someones got to teach the young ones wisdom.”
“And how do you know who needs saving?”
“I was that man once.”
“Come eat, hero. And dont forgettomorrows our sons party. No rescues allowed.” She smiled, love in her eyes.
“Wouldnt miss it. Fifty years of our boy, our lovehow could I forget?” Wrapping an arm around her, he followed her to the kitchen, still smiling.
Believe it or not, thats how it happened. Make of it what you will.
