The Final Text

Hubby wants sex. He is trying to overcome (pun??) an addiction to porn. I find out that in the last 14 years he has not gone more than 2 weeks without jacking off to porn in the bathroom with the computer on his TV stand. We, on the other hand (another pun??), have gone without sex for over 3 months.

So, in his new attempt at coming out of his shell (when will the puns stop?), he is going without self-stimulation. We have sex when I get back from the conference for the first 2 nights. It's surprisingly good. I have pent up frustration, and he is eager to please.

But after that, I just get angry at his whimpiness. The constant need for reassurance is trying and nauseating. So I haven't been interested. But I've noticed his mounting frustration (another one...), and last night, he makes it clear that he expects to fool around.

It's amazing how subtle things can get in a marriage. He mentions to the kids that he's had a difficult day and is tired. I say that he should just go upstairs and get a good night's sleep. he responds, "Oh, I've got much more important things to do than sleep." Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

It probably doesn't help that I have been to get my second brazilian wax that morning...

So we lock the doors and send the kids downstairs to watch whatever on TV. We're down to it. I have to decide what to do. I just can't muster the "I love you so much" kisses and stroking that we usually go by. I turn over and shove my butt into his crotch and start grinding. He reaches around and touches me. I manage to come by imagining some silly fantasy, then roll over to receive him.

I thrash and bang as much as possible to make it quick, but also to vent the frustration. It must be confusing for a husband to be told that he needs to be less controlling, but to have his wife want him to be a strong man, regardless.

When it's over, I jump up and run to the bathroom. I sit on the toilet furious. I just want to get OUT! I want to leave now. I don't want to lie in the bed next to him and listen to his 130th insight on what he needs to improve, or what my true need is.

I grab my clothes and tell him that I am going to Wal-Mart for the boring school supplies (hand santizer, baby wipes, tissues) and ice cream.

I put on my Lily Allen Pandora station and drive the, oh, 3 minutes to get to Wal-Mart. I decide that I want the music around me in the store. I don't have my earphones, so I just hold it close and turn the volume up a little.

Before I get out of the car, I decide that FB has written me off. He won't meet with me, and he hasn't reached out to me. So, with one tear rolling down my cheek, I text:

I wasn't ready for it to stop. I'm sorry my husband is a paranoid neurotic. I miss fucking you. I know, too much drama. Still wanted you to know.

I stroll numbly through Wal-Mart, half expecting to see a client or business associate, listening to my Adele and Kate Nash.

No response.

No surprise.

I check out with my Ben & Jerry's Heath Bar Crunch and sanitary school supplies and drive home.