None of the stories she read as a school girl prepared for her for the loneliness that comes with sharing a bed with someone you don’t love and don’t like much.
No, those tales always made it seem magical to share your bed with a man you loved and who loved you. The bedroom was a special place, a sacred place where you share intimate moments and opened yourself up to loving and being loved in ways that you had never experienced.
Sometimes she wondered if her expectations were too high to be in line with reality. Maybe she had spent too much time with her books and too much time hearing from girl friends about the great guys they were with. Come to think of it few of them if any ever said a word about feeling lonely in the bedroom.
They might have voiced a complaint or two but they were relatively innocuous in nature. Few were willing to talk about a failed or failing marriage. Maybe it was too raw and too personal for them. She didn’t know but she knew for certain that her own was barely hanging on.
What she didn’t know was how to make it better or if it could be and the sad part was she just didn’t care any more. There had been a time when she would have done anything and everything to save it. A time where she couldn’t imagine spending her life with anyone else and now she hated spending it with him.
Every night she’d race to the bed before he got there so that she could fall asleep before he came in. Sometimes she would feel him press up against her and while he ran his hands over her body she’d do her best not to respond or give any indication she could feel it.
It was almost like being touched by a stranger.
There were only so many ways to say no, so many ways to put him off. But eventually she would say yes and do her best to just get through it.
She didn’t understand how he could still do it when she so clearly wasn’t into it. He’d whisper things in her ear and tell her how good it felt and all she could think of was how she hoped he’d finish quickly.
This wasn’t the life she imagined or signed up for but for the moment it was the one she had. The real question was how long did she have to live that way.
There had to be more, had to be something better. There had to be someone out there who she wanted to be with. She shouldn’t have to put up with the guy on top of her any longer but she did because of the kids.
Sometimes she would listen to people talk about how resilient children are and how much happier they were when their parents were happy. Sometimes she thought about leaving him because life is short.
But she worried about her kids. What would that mean for them. It would hurt them and she feared how much. So she grit her teeth and didn’t tell him when he shared his stupid comments and stories she was thinking about the laundry and all of the other stuff she had to get done.