Separation…

For weeks I would sit motionless, sometimes simply staring at the windows in my bedroom. I couldn’t move. Thoughts of cheating, thoughts of leaving ran through my mind all the time, but I did nothing… I did nothing to learn how I could love him harder, love him better, love him into the past, to a time of who he and I used to be.

But the truth was, I wasn’t that girl anymore. My idea on love and marriage had dramatically began to change and simply being human and liking similar things would no longer suffice. Sex became cliche’; at best something to do to past the time. Until more time past and I realized we weren’t even sleeping in the same room any longer. We’d became roommates that would occasionally order take-out and drink together.

Somehow, in this medium-sized house, a big space grew between us; he had his floor and I had mine. He had his schedule and I had mine. Soon it would be bill time and robotically, we’d each pay our portion and silently go back to what was “normal”. I’m married and yet so lonely, sleeping alone became abnormally normal. His clothes were in the bedroom closet, he would come and get them out for the next day and that was how things went.

And sex was another topic to argue about or at least lack there of… He’d blame it on my past experiences, on my weight and on me. But for me, sex was about mental stimulation and fulfilling a desire. And I no longer had the desire to be touched by him, lusted by him, I didn’t even want to lie beside him. “How’d we get here?” And exactly where was here? How were we still existing, I still had his last name, but I’d lost myself into this marital relationship. Where were my rainbows and butterflies and happily ever afters?