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Marriage Talk 1&2

Forty minutes!

It took forty minutes

for the rectangle of light

from around the bathroom door to go off.

The door opening quietly

wearing what she usually wore to bed in winter

—flannel pajamas—

the young woman,

as quietly as possible,

tip­toed to bed.

Lying nude,

The young man

watched the shadow of his wife

as she approached the bed,

turning onto his side,

propping his head within the palm of his hand,

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Though said softly, the simple, one­ syllable word

seemed to resound throughout the room.

“Hi.”

For the young man

the word transmitted hopeful expectancy.

“Hi.”

For the young woman

the word was perceived as a demand for sex

that she was neither in a physical

nor mental mood to comply with.

Squirming beneath the blanket,

“if you really want to screw,”

She said,

“I’ll do it.

But I do want you to know,”

—she lied—

“I’ve 'such' a headache!”

“You’ve a headache, huh?”

Turning onto his back,

“Know what?”

he said,

“You really ought to talk to your doctor

‘bout all the headaches you’ve been getting.”

“You don’t believe me.”

Said without anger,

“Do you?”

Onto his side again,

propping his head in his hand again ,

thinking before answering.

“I don’t want to argue.”

Speaking softly,

speaking without anger,

“But, yeah,

I don’t always believe you’re as sick

as you always say you are.”

Hesitating, adding,

“And I think you’re really looking

for an excuse not to have sex and…”

Hesitating again,

“I think you don’t love me anymore.

As a matter of fact,”

—truly believing this—

“I think you hate me.”

Turning onto her side also,

unable to see his features,

but feeling his closeness

feeling the touch of breath upon her face…

Marriage Talk 2

“No,” she said,

“I don’t hate you.

But I’d like you to,

if only once in a while,”

—equating her emotions,

a woman’s emotions and motivations to his,

a man’s emotions and motivations—

“if only once in a while

you’d let me know that you care about me!

‘Really’ care about me and ‘just’ touch me!”

“I do care about you!”

Confused,

“And I always touch you!”

“You say you care about me,

but no,

you don’t really!

And the way you always touch me

is not the way I always want to be touched!

That’s not what I mean by touching me!

Whenever you touch me it’s like you’re

telling me you want to be f***ed.”

Wincing at the word,

wondering why she always

referred to their lovemaking

as ‘screwing’ or ‘f***ing’

never as ‘making love’!

“You ‘never’ just touch me!

You’re always grabbing my tits,

or my behind, or my crotch!”

Amazed at this.

Amazed at her perception that

that’s the way she ‘perceived’ he treated her.

“That’s not true !” he said.

Hurt!

Hurt and insulted she’d even

‘think’ he didn’t care about her.

Care about her?

he thought.

Hell!

That she’d even think I don’t love her!

That she’d say he only touched her

in ‘those places’ when he knew he didn’t

—not ‘only’ in those places—

“I don’t ‘only’ touch your tits

or your behind or your crotch!”

he said emphatically,

though still speaking softly,

thinking,

That’s not how I treat her!

But rationalizing:

If I do,

then maybe it’s because I’m a man

and maybe

that’s how a man’s supposed to be?

Further considering:

But what if she was right in her estimation

of how she was thought of, and treated by him?

And if she was,

the thought that he might ‘truly’ be that way

—even if it was the ‘manly’ way to be—

To be continued

©April 15, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman