She Didn’t Realize
It started as a normal day, just like any other.
The room was quiet, the only sounds being her husband’s deep breathing, and the sound of their cat stretching out at the end of the bed. Comfortable, homey sounds that became her lullaby over the course of their shared life of five years. She had her arm tucked under his; her body molded to the curves of his back, the way they’ve slept since they met, under piles of blankets. His body warmed her to the bone, chasing away the cold that seeped into her body, her heart. It made her think he was shielding her from the outside world, the way he laced his legs between hers, held her hand as she slept. A safe haven, silent harbor. It was the single moment of every morning, every evening that she looked forward to. This silent surrender into peace.
She didn’t realize that this would be the day she didn’t love him deeply anymore.
It happened gradually, without her even noticing, not realizing that the maddening love that was felt before was slipping through her hands like sand. Every endearing habit turned into a vexation; playful teasing no longer fun. Day by day neglect set in, insidiously, starting with the little things. They say that the little things are the most important, and they are the first to go. She didn’t recognize it; apparently neither did he. Satisfactory complacency replaced the nurturing enticement of building a life together. It could no longer be discerned if she was comfortably in love with him, or if she were comfortably resigned to a quiet life. Promises had been made after all; the “I do’s” had been declared in front of family and friends. The sandcastles they built together came crumbling down as she began to acknowledge painful truths. She wasn’t sure how to move on from this, where to go. Analyzing it to death. She knew the pain to come would be unbearable; his heart would break along with hers. She couldn’t stay; every promise doesn’t work out that way.
She didn’t realize that this would be the day she didn’t want to work anymore.
She simply woke up, as if from a drugged fog, and took an inventory of her laughs, her tears. Adding each moment, she suppressed her true self until she realized she didn’t know who she was. She didn’t want to face it and repressed it for some time. Led on with life with her head held high, trying to be the woman he deserved, the woman he loved; it was a strain. With a heavy heart, head hung low, she tried to get the words out, but they stuck in her throat. What could be said after five years? Through all the trials, all the love making, all the memories, what can be done? Peace was replaced with suffering, her body frozen on the stairs. She focused on the coffee, the water, the next step. The next minute, hour, day. He knew, in his heart he knew, and his eyes reflected the realization of their loss. Finally, the day came, as days do, and she scraped together the strength deep inside, bared her soul to him. She watched the light die from his eyes as a tear fell. He was her source of strength all this time; he kept her pushing through each terrible day, in sickness and health, for the past years. She was losing her grip, though; the pressure from the various waves caused her to lose her grip on the rock that was her husband. Numbness settled into her bones, and she absorbed his anger, hurt, confusion, pain. Took it all inside of her; let it make a home in her soul.
She didn’t realize that this would be the day she didn’t want to be married anymore.
She let her heart shatter; her soul cut wide open, allowed it to bleed. Body wracked with sobs, pain created by her own mind. Anxiety made her limbs tremble; sorrow emptied her stomach. Worry stole away with her sleep. No longer recognizable to herself, she lived hollow days, hours stretched on numbly, minutes drained by. She didn’t know if this would heal, if she would find home again. Angry words she directed at herself, tearing her identity away piece by piece till there was nothing left. She tip toed around, looked over her shoulder, squeezing by with red rimmed eyes. The temptation of alcohol so close, she barely resisted, choosing an unintentional fasting of the senses. Confusion about the future, terrified of the unknown, stable ground lost, fractured by her own willful heart.
She didn’t realize that this would be the day she didn’t, couldn’t, heal a piece of her heart.
