I sit in silence, watching an old black and white film. It has something to do with alcoholism. Funny, I think, that such a topic was featured in a film so old. Not sure why it had never occurred to me that this is a problem that has been around for so, so long. Or at least I never realized it was recognized so long ago.
It is nearing 4am and still I sit and watch the film. I should be sleeping. I know that. Instead I sit and watch a film about one kind of addiction while my life unravels due to another. It's the reason I am awake. The reason I sit alone in the dark watching old movies on TV. Once more shunned by the man who should want me. The man I should not want and yet I do.
The evening started with such high hopes on my part. A few hours to ourselves. Sitting together on the couch, holding each other close. Then time to retreat to the bedroom. Everything had pointed to an intimate evening. Instead he talks about anything he can think of. Anything but us. Anything but what should very naturally be happening.
I lay there getting angry. I don't want to talk about the children. Not about work. Not about any of these stupid things he mentions. I truly do not want to talk at all.
Finally I am fed up with it all and call him out. Why? Why are you talking about these things? Why are you not touching me? Trying to be with me? Why? No answer. Only silence. We lay in silence and time ticks by. Ten minutes. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. It's enough. I get up, taking my pillow and blanket with me I retreat to the couch.
I sit in silence and watch an old black and white film about one kind of addiction while in my mind I think of how another has ruined my marriage.
2 comments:
This reflects what I'm going through with my husband and perhaps a lot of others too, doesn't matter what type of addiction it is.
I'm sorry about your night. I hate every night I have!
I relate to this scene soooo much. Thank you for posting it. I cannot tell you how many nights this has played out in our house. Even down to the "talking about everything" part. When I would bring up the elephant in the room he would try and turn it back on me. As if I was some sex maniac or something, or why couldn't I just be happy with a "good night". I hate those nights. I hate how I felt rejected. I hate how I felt robbed of what was good and what should be ours to share.
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