I’m watching you get ready out of the corner of my eye. You don’t see me, you continue fixing your hair and smoothing out your button down shirt. I pretend to watch TV, with the blankets drawn up over my knees which I hug to my chest, but secretly I watch you while you get ready for work. I don’t have a job besides being your wife, but every morning, when you awaken, I turn the TV on and pretend to watch the news while you get ready for work.
When did we get this way? When did we fall into a routine that made it hard for me to look at you, and even harder for you to realize that I was looking at you? Our love for one another had snuck away silently into the night, and had been replaced by… nothingness.
I sigh quietly into the blanket. You sense something and turn, but I drop my eyes to the remote control and fiddle with the buttons.
I feel you looking at me, but I don’t look up. There is nothing to say.
You sigh audibly, and turn away from me. The tears start to flow before I can stop them, but I mop them up quickly with the blanket. They are gone before you turn to me, lean down and give me a quick, dry peck on the cheek and wish me a nice day. I respond, as usual, with “Have a good day at work, sweety.”
You leave without another backward glance.
I flop backwards onto the bed and attempt to fall asleep again. I think about when things changed.
Perhaps when we found out I could not have children.
Perhaps when we found out you could not have children.
We drifted apart, into a void. There is no point to separate because apart or together, we cannot fulfill our deepest dream. At least together we both know what the other is going through.
But this is no longer true. I no longer know what is going on in your head, I cannot read what you think anymore. You come home with deep lines in your forehead and I don’t know what puts them there. I make dinner like always and you no longer complain when I make dishes you don’t like. You simply eat in a daze, not tasting nor seeing the food, and accept that this is life.
Life is a boring mess of routine, day in and day out of the same old shit.
I don’t want that anymore. I roll over onto my front and sigh again. I don’t want to live like this, to live like strangers with my own husband. It’s almost too painful to breathe.
I fall asleep into a deep slumber and dream…
originally written & posted May 15, 2006
SkippyMom says
I simply couldn’t imagine this – but I do know some our friends lives are like this – they are so disconnected, it is sad.
This is beautifully written, you can really feel her pain.
Hey? Where’s the life experience shadowing your work? 😉