Another Year Alone
Last Christmas came and went without so much as a kiss. I nurtured the holiday season with optimism but, like the year before it, it was all for naught. I faced another New Year’s Day alone and lonely. Sex, if it’s to happen before the year is out, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle.
That’s why I’m dreading these upcoming holidays. What’s going to happen this time? Will it end the same way? Surely not. It’s too long!
Where did our intimacy go? Why did it leave us?
I’ve tried to keep my chin up but it’s hard to do. I drop hints. I’m desperate – but I must be too subtle. There was a gift for my birthday but it only came in pretty paper. I need flesh and lots of it.
Take last Easter. Nothing. We had a whole weekend away. It was a carefree time. It was a lovely trip. We walked, ate and enjoyed some great sights together but we never made love, not once. Why? I was climbing the walls by the end of it.
My heart just keeps on breaking. Don’t you know that? How could you not know it?
I want to know what I did wrong to deserve a sexless marriage? Did I say something offensive, do something out of turn?
I’d heard about married couples who’d go through inexplicable dry spells but I thought that was a myth or for comedians to use for jokes. I didn’t know that it’s totally true!
Single people have a good reason to be alone this Christmas. It’s sad too but makes perfect sense.
Married people have no excuse. They can have sex anytime and anywhere. At least, that’s what I thought they could do. But we don’t, not ever.
Am I wrong to want? Do I expect too much?
How can we sleep in the same bed and not want to get it on? What are we, just good friends?
It wasn’t always like this.
We used to have sex almost all of the time. We couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. That doesn’t happen now. A whole year can pass by before one comes to touch me again. And, when it does, it pulls back far too soon.
It’s pitiful. My soul has all but evaporated.
If I’d read it five years ago, it wouldn’t have made sense but that’s not the case today. I totally get it.
Just how long is too long before I should give up, scream or just go mad?
“Forman’s writing style is artful, with the protagonist Mitchell’s warped thought processes masterfully exposed. The author has a powerful and vivid command of language and his word pictures are stark and disturbingly real.”– Linda J Bettenay, author of ‘Secrets Mothers Keep’ and ‘Wishes For Starlight’.