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by Heather 389 words (4 minutes) Wednesday (nods), it was a Wednesday. He was (pause changes mind about what she is about to say) I finished work early, about 2, I remember everything about that afternoon, I had a really long bath, I shaved my legs, I used the little pack of face mask I got as a sample from Marie Claire, I plucked my eyebrows,I painted my toe-nails, I moisturized my legs, I read some of Angela's Ashes.I ordered pizza at about 6 and waited. I never thought, I mean I trusted him so completely, I thought I meant as much to him... as (trails off) I don't understand. He just didn't come, I was pissed off, he hadn't said anything, had I forgotten some appointment? Had something happened to him? I got paranoid. I couldn't eat, I watched the pizza solidify and watched the box become drenched. I felt like crying and didn't know why, I felt empty and lonely, why hadn't he called? He came in just before nine. It must have been exciting, sharing a space with a different naked person, from your wife. His hair was ruffled, but he'd made obvious attempts to fix it, his clothes were obviously fixed, and his face, it wasn't the same person anymore, and I just knew. So I asked him what her name was. I have no idea who she is, I have never heard of her before, he knew her in high school. I didn't want to talk about it, or hear his apologies, or watch his agitated gestures anymore, I literally had no idea what to do with myself. I locked myself in our bathroom, and collapsed where we had once made love on the tiles and sobbed with anger, disbelief and pain. He gave up knocking and shouting apologies after about an hour. All I could think about was to wonder what it was like, I didn't want to, it hurt, but it was all my mind would focus on, did he hold her like he held me? Was she better? Was he more fulfilled? Did he say the same things, the same compliments, did they eat out at the same restaurants? Did he have a special name for her, had he ever felt like I had, lying next to him, looking at him, had he ever felt that for me? Did he only ever marry me because everyone else seemed to be doing it? Was I that inadequate? That ugly? That boring? That crap at sex? Why am I here you ask me? (looks at wrists) There is a mirror in our bathroom, we used to stand in front of it together in the mornings, him behind me, holding my waist while I brushed my teeth, he would smile and I would try not to swallow too much toothpaste as I smiled back. I loved him so much, I thought he loved me, and even if he did, I thought we had something... something (searching for a word) untouchable. It seemed so fitting that something that showed us once as the happy couple could end it for me, when I found out it was all a lie. I don't remember much of what happened after I smashed the mirror, I remember cutting my wrists. I woke up here. You think I have depression. I don't, this isn't medical, this isn't my cry for help. I wanted to die because when I woke up, I mean to what was going on, When I woke up, I wanted more than anything to be asleep, And to wake up with him. |