• January ninth of a new year and a new decade of time; the day of my resignation as the half of Mary Jane. It's been a month since the last time I gave my thoughts the attention it needed; I simply couldn't live with my wife while having an affair with the girl next door...

    My name's Raphael Jones, thirty-six year-old and I'm married -- but all that will change just a minute. Here I am, typing my whole story in world wide web, about to re-tell the grimmest story that has ever happened in the chapter of my life.

    I've been married for five years, married to my high school sweetheart Mary Jane. I met her in the cafeteria; how it happened? I simply caught her giving me a sideways glance while I munch down on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich as a freshmen. She was a year older than me.

    Mary Jane is the sweetest girl I've met, with her majestic, piercing blue eyes, her dirty blonde hair, to her mere personality that everyone seems to be taking advantage of. A cheerleader who didn't have the snobby persona as the others; Mary Jane, a perfect personality sculpted in a perfect body.

    There's a million reason I could tell why I married this pulchritudinous lady, but I have within me one reason I have that will shatter them all. Had I not met the woman who recently bought the house next doors, I wouldn't think otherwise of getting a divorce. Pearl, a laid back country girl, not so much of my Mary Jane, but her intimate look that was buried within my chest has made me thinking that this girl is the one for me. The second day me and Pearl met, we already had a steamy intercourse in my bed, in Mary Jane and I's bed.

    The sweat, the passion, and the lust has given me the door within my marriage's "border" in which I fully crossed. I decided then that I would trade my love from Mary Jane to Pearl. I know, I'm such an a** of a man for doing so. But there's only two reason, me as a man, lives: sex and staying alive.

    Morning of January ninth, I manned up and approached Mary Jane in the kitchen as I sniff the scent of the strong cinnamon spice that lingers within the room. I told her to stop her cooking and proceed to the dinner table immediately, so unmanly and so directly as I was to her that time, she instead replied with a smile. It, somehow, made my heart twitch.

    "Mary Jane" I started, "I'm thinking of --"

    "Divorcing" she finished. "Raphael, I've known since the day you met that girl who lives next doors. I know... And I felt."

    Feeling guilt and rather shock, I sat in the varnished wooden chair. staring at the ring upon which I've held my unbreakable vow to. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked her.

    She answered simply, "because I want the best for you."

    I was surprised... and confused at the thought. "I want the best for you" what does she mean? Was I hallucinating? She stood up and gave me the last smile I saw that day and headed to our room -- without saying anymore words.

    I left the house twenty minutes later and spent the day with Pearl. As usual and as routinely as possible, we made love for the seventy-eight time; however, today is not the same and she knows it. As I was on the bed with Pearl, half of my conscience is focused on the word my ex-wife to-be while the other half is given solely to this girl I'm having an affair with. We were done two hours later.

    Nine fifty-eight that night, I headed home and found the lights off all over the house except the study room's. It's a cue that my wife is still awake. I checked the fridge and to my amusement found a tupperware full of freshly cooked spaghetti; I heated it up in the microwave for about a minute before I headed toward the bathroom to change.

    At ten in evening, I was feeling indifferent; usually Mary Jane would call me to bed to sleep. But today, knowing from the fact that she knows I don't feel anymore love toward her, she kept quiet. I shrugged off the thought and ate my dinner.

    After the tasty treat my wife made for the night, I headed down to the study room to find a note in my wife's penmanship. In it, it said:

    Dear Raph,

    I've been meaning to tell you the whole story behind my reserved self lately, after all what happened today, I just couldn't handle the thought of it all. I love you to the very bottom of my heart. I didn't want you to worry...

    What the hell is she talking about? I thought. Has she gone insane? I snickered to the thought and continued reading the note.

    Raphael, my dear, I'm pregnant.

    There's one more paragraph left in the note, but I tossed it in the table and left it unread. I ran toward my room vigorously while cursing on way in, "Why the hell didn't you tell me!" I bellowed, but Mary Jane didn't say a word. "What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, topping off my lungs, yet I was left standing in the door like I was talking to myself.

    I walked toward the bed where Mary Jane is at and shooked her. At first, I thought she was already fallen asleep, but as I examine her closely, her breathing came to a halt so was her pulse. Mary Jane is dead.

    "No!" I screamed. "No! No! No!" but I couldn't do anything except blame myself for my own stupidity. I called in Pearl to tell her what happened she said, "Good. Now we can marry."

    I was pissed.

    Pissed at the world, pissed at Mary Jane for not telling me about our unborn child that's inside her, pissed at myself for being the worst jerk the world have, and pissed at Pearl who seems to be only using me.

    I walked back inside the study room. I took the note and read the last paragraph she has written for me to read:

    I'm sorry if I didn't mention it before the note read. I don't want you to know, I don't want you to know Raphael because I've been carrying a life inside me as well as a cancer I contracted not so long ago the letters are quite unclear but readable, the teardrops that fell within the paper has messed up her writing. Mary Jane was weeping while telling her untold secret in a looseleaf. I don't want to hurt you, Raphael. I'm really sorry. I checked in with the doctor and he told me that the cancer has spread out throughout my body and is now in its full stage. The percentage of my survival is little to nothing. I'm dying, Raphael. The hurtful and emotional disease she's bearing inside her that I know nothing of, hit me. I was tearing, but I have to read, to finish what she started.

    I didn't tell you all about this, because I want the best for you. Raphael, I love you.

    *

    August 31st, 2010, I decided to share my story in my purpose of stopping the common disease the world is going through right now: divorce. I wanted to share the story my wife and I had that ended with a sad ending. Had I not acted like stupid jerk, I would've prevented the scenario and saved her life as well as our unborn child. I, Raphael Jones, is passing you this message for the world to see.