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Orange Ya Glad It’s Over?

Amazing, the things you remember lovers by…

B. had some interesting, even endearing, habits. One was how he’d meticulously peel an orange and eat it. He has done this ever since we first knew each other, back in 1987, at our workplace. We’d eat lunch together (usually amongst co-workers so as not to incite gossip that we’d become intimate) and, invariably, on his lunch tray, there was an orange. His dessert. B. loves oranges.

And even after two decades of being lovers, he’d peel it the very same way, first taking out his Swiss Army knife and slicing a neat circle around the top. I must’ve watched him do this hundreds of times, each time with surgical precision. He’d carefully slide his thumb under the circular cut and decapitate the orange. I always commented that the round remnant resembled a yarmulke.

It would look something like this (Oh B., you do this miles better than me. Look at those ragged edges. I did such a horrible job!):

Decapitated orange. A B. specialty item.

Decapitated orange. A B. specialty item. My attempt doesn’t do it justice.

With the tip of his blade he’d then make long, strong, parallel cuts from top to bottom, following the sections of the fruit inside and, too, methodically stripping away each piece of rind. 

He’d remove ALL traces of pith, intently cleaning and scraping away the nasty veins and ribs until only the thinnest white veil covered the juicy pulp underneath. Thus skinned, would he break apart the segments and pop them, one by one, into his mouth. 

At a weekend brunch he once prepared for me, B. got creative:

How sweet. Pun intended.

How sweet. Pun intended.

Folks, am I correct in assuming most people cut an eating orange something like this? :

The non-anal way to slice an orange.

The non-anal way to slice an orange.

Okay, so I fooled you. This ISN’T a nice, simple blog post about how my former lover enjoys his citrusy snack. It’s a post about lying. How, over two decades, we cut and peeled and scraped away layers. Who did the peeling?, I wonder. How many layers did we find? Did we expose them all? And what was finally exposed….palatable? 

It took 26 years, a nasty break-up, and a personal protection order to ultimately find the innermost layer, and it was bitter: 

Our love was a lie.  ALL narcissists lie, and B. is a classic narcissist. He covered himself in layers of promise, of love, of outward signs of devotion and need. But when he found a new, ripe piece of fruit, he immediately discarded me…naked, bare, peeled open. He stripped my soul and left me to rot.

Categories: Affair Break-ups Habits Infidelity Orange eating

Tagged as:

Exit 4A

A former mistress (26 years, on-and-off) describes the good, the bad, and the ugly of her long-term affair. Conclusion: Affairs aren't necessarily destructive if kept in the correct perspective. Our experience enhanced BOTH our marriages.

That is, until his marriage ended and we began to love each other. When the affair morphed into a relationship, well, that's when it stopped being fun for me.

For 26 yrs we luxuriated in implicit Trust. When B. cheated on ME, it was the first time another person came into our relationship besides our respective spouses.

We have now irrevocably split.

10 replies

    1. Thanks for reading all the way through, Marty. I think my readership is going to pass this post by, unfortunately (and my ego tells me it’s a good one!). Oranges can and do tell a story! 🙂

  1. It’s amazing what stepping away and looking back does to one’s perspective isn’t it? Of course that would explain hindsight. But I will say that while the love may have been a lie, I believe that you genuinely loved him. Was some of your love predicated upon the lies he perpetuated? Sure. But in reading through your posts and your insightful comments on other blogs as well as my own (thank you btw) you are a smart, intelligent and loving person. You loved him inspite of the red flags. And again, far be it for me to pass judgment when genuine love presented itself. Oh and regarding the dissection of an orange. As a soccer mom, I cut the oranges for snack time like the picture you posted of what you think most people do. But, as a woman that loves oranges, I too take great care and time removing the peel before thoroughly removing every stringy and clinging pieces of from each section. MMM I think I will head to the Sainsbury near this hotel and pick a couple up! 😉

    1. Thanks for the comments and nice words. I sure loved B., and I know he loved me. Just don’t understand, and never will, how he could dump me as unceremoniously as he did, at the time he did, and why.

  2. Wow.. just enjoyed how you described the way of layers of an orange can actually be hurtful at the end in real life. Sometimes we need these layers to protect ourselves but it take one unusual cutter to be able to destroy what we been covering up. Just loved this one!!

    1. Thanks for reading and commenting. I was trying to “pull one over” on my readers, thinking I was only writing about how my Ex peeled his oranges, but then I threw in that twist at the end. I loved your term “one unusual cutter”…I’ll have to remember that!

      1. You did great!! I enjoyed the twist at the end and how you just made it all work out for you… I do come up with some weird terms… LOL… but it does take someone we least expected to peel us open… or cuts us deep.

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