Starting Over Again
*
This story is written in the first person. My writing style by design for first person narratives is of incomplete sentence fragments. This reflects actual thought processes that people have. It is by design, not laziness. If the bothers you, please give yourself a break and don't read this story. If on the other hand, you read my story and then you have to complain about it, go ahead. You're all adults and make your own decisions about life.
*****
"NO NO NO NO." I was really pissed, more than pissed. For the last three months Ryan was asking me to 'get a little frisky' with him. We've been married over 28 years now. Got all three of the kids launched, two are married and the third is in Boston in Grad school and on his own dime.
"Look Ryan, I love you, but this is starting to border on abuse."
"Come on Jenny, we're past 50, the kids are out. We've got the rest of our lives. What can it hurt?"
"HURT? WHAT CAN IT HURT? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? I AM GOD DAMN TIRED OF THIS SHIT." I suddenly realized that I was the center of attention at this restaurant. I immediately dropped down to a near whisper.
"There is a difference in life now. I'm older. I'm dryer. We're both older..."
"That's right Jenny, but we aren't dead YET, are we? How many good years do we have in front of us?"
"So to be married to you I have to bring other people into our bedroom? I have to be with a woman and another man? You get to fuck around too? What the fuck is wrong with you? Is our sex life that terrible? Am I so wrong?"
"NO. That isn't what I said. You know that's not what I ever said..."
"Then what the fuck do you really mean Ryan, what the fuck do you really mean?"
"We got married, raised the three kids and got them into decent schools. Good solid kids in good solid relationships..."
"Just like this SOLID relationship Ryan." The acid in my voice continued, "This SOLID relationship where I'm now required to ..."
"CAN YOU LET ME FINISH FOR ONCE BEFORE YOU EXECUTE ME? Give me a break, YOU DEMAND that you be allowed finish before I can get any point across. Can you give me that same courtesy?"
I shut up and glared at him. Knew he was right but I also realized that it really wasn't going to matter. I was not going to have a three-way, I was not going to have other people in our bed. AND I SURE AS FUCK WAS NOT GOING TO ACCEPT HIM BEDDING ANYBODY ELSE. I nodded to him with contempt. Who does he think he is?
"As I was saying, good solid kids in good solid relationships. They are launched. They've been the center of our lives. We've worked hard on getting them to be successful, getting us to be successful." He paused, "Our lives have been wrapped up, pretty much focused on them. We've done good for them."
At this I nodded yes. That much was true, not an ounce of bullshit. He saw my agreement over my contempt and continued. "What about us? We have the rest of our lives. Where do we want to be? What do we want to do? What about..."
"Getting me in bed with somebody else? Great future." This was the replay of the past several weeks. Nothing new here. Why do I bother to listen to him?
He cringed. "That's not what I said. That's not what I ever said." Then he held his face in his hands. I was waiting. One minute then another. No movement, no movement at all from him. Jerk is finally getting it. That's when he looked up at me and started fumbling with his hands under the table.
He stood up while cradling something in his right hand. "Jenny, there is no way to get through to you. You won't allow me to talk, and you won't listen and you make things up. Call me when you want to get serious. You'll have to make the appointment with a third party. I can't do it any other way with you." He reached over and placed his right hand in front of me on the table. "I won't be needing these." He removed his hand and uncovered his wedding bands and started to quickly walk away.
I looked at the rings, what are they doing there? "What's this? Where are you going?"
As he walked away he said, "I'm going to what used to be my home and am starting to pack. You are the most important person in this marriage. Then it's your ego, then it's the kids. I rate at number 6, but the dog is probably even higher." At that he ran out of the restaurant to the car.
I got up to go after him, but by the time I hit the door the car was gone. He left me with the bill, my purse and no transportation home. I went back to the table and nursed my glass of wine. I can call Theresa, my wonderful daughter. She'll give me a ride home. I can even call Ryan, but he's so angry that I knew he wouldn't answer. So I sat back and thought about things.
We've raised out kids and they're on to their own lives, successful starts to their own lives. Theresa is nearby and the other two are on different coasts, Seattle and Boston. I miss them terribly so, but we raised them right, be successful, be independent, be responsible, be proactive, be... I looked at his rings in my hand and it struck me. I was in a marriage that was dying.
At this point the waiter came back asking if there was anything I wanted. I was going to answer truthfully then quickly realized that nobody wanted to hear my sob story. I asked for the bill for dinner and that he move the wine bottle to a table in back of the bar. I needed time alone now.
Have we grown apart over these years? Looks like it. I know that sometimes I'm a real bitch to Ryan. He doesn't do things right and I tell him. It's been worse these last couple of years. What did he tell me once, he wanted a wife who had his back, not on his back. I don't think that I paid much attention to it when he said it. Instead I continued my attack and we didn't talk for a week.
The weddings, the graduations, the health issues we're starting to have. Diabetes runs in my family, a bad running companion if there ever was. Still...
Looking at his wedding bands, I realize the gravity of the situation I've gotten into. He's always been there for the family, for me most of the time.
Have I really been there for him? Not lately, not lately at all...
I signaled the bartender. "Gin and tonic please. And when that one is finished, bring another, OK?"
Work has been a bear, and so have I. If I ever am going to be honest with myself, I need to say that. I have to say that out loud. Out loud to Ryan. It's hard working with stupid and lazy people. They are so transparent that it's not funny anymore. Stupid and honest I can take, it's the stupid and dishonest or lazy or just the dishonest that get me. Ryan is not of any of those, but it's him that I dump on.
It's funny, feeling these rings, remembering... The wedding and the wedding rings. The 10 year anniversary rings and the trip to Charleston. It was just the two of us. Where did we start of go wrong? Lost in making sure the kids were the best they could be? Lost in our jobs and making that all mighty dollar? Running on automatic pilot for too long?
My gin and tonic was empty and on cue, another one appeared. It went down very quickly. The third one soon appeared.
What has our life been like? Working hard, working hard all the time. We met in college, both of us had part time jobs. It took a couple of more years of entry level jobs with grad school at night. Marriage was more work, making a life. Raising young kids, more work. Buying a fixer-upper in a great suburb, daily work, weekend work. It's all been work work work.
And he wants to get frisky? We've been frisky over the years. I feel a smile on my face. The alcohol has finally taken effect. It's harder for me to get mad when I'm drinking. Easier to for me to let go and think freely. That's right, think outside the box when I'm buzzed. Buzzed with a capital B. Have to finish that wine now. I close my eyes while killing the wine and I'm getting a bad feeling, a real bad feeling...
It's been years since we really were frisky. It's been more work, recessions, overtime whenever I could get it and he's salaried so it's 45+ hour work weeks even when it's slow. More when it's busy. When was the last time...?
Another gin and tonic shows up. I nod and smile to the waiter. Between that and the wine, I'm starting to unwind a bit. Frisky? I don't get interested in it anymore. Really, I've stopped caring for a roll in the hay. Maybe after a whole day of enforced idleness, nothing hitting the fan, no crisis from the kids or work or home or... and disasters in the world or anything else that could ever annoy me? To be honest, just about everything annoys me. Every fucking thing annoys me.
It's true. I'm rarely frisky. When my world is right, then I'm ok with it. He gets me hot and bothered, makes sure that I've been satisfied and then I let him fuck me. When he fucks me, I don't have to do anything.
I start sipping this tonic and soon realize that it's empty. Empty is the look on his face when he finishes fucking me. Empty. His eyes are empty. His face shows that he is so far away. I lay there and take it wanting it to be over. After all, he's already gotten me off. That's all I need for the week or two. Sometimes he gets me off again if he mounts me right after I come. He comes quickly and I turn over to get some sleep.
We don't cuddle. Haven't in years. Uncomfortable in the summer. Overly hot in the winter under the comforter.
Comforter? Comes from the word comfort.
I don't really comfort him much, do I? I do take comfort from him. He's asks if I need my neck rubbed, my shoulders massaged. Je doesn't push it from there. Looking after me. Caring about me. I don't ask him what he wants, do I? Looking at the rings I see that they belong with me, not with him.
How the fuck did I get this way?
Why the fuck am I this way?
I look at the rings in my hands. They are wet. My tears are dripping off my face onto the rings. I don't know when I cried last.
Who am I crying for? For Ryan? For our dead marriage?
Or is it for me?
I reach into my purse to pull out a tissue and feel the phone vibrate. It's my daughter Theresa. I see that it's been two hours since Ryan left me here. Try as I might, I can't swipe it to answer. Somehow my hands aren't working right. I struggle for a bit when the waiter comes on by with another g&t.
"CCCCan yyyyyou call back the last number". Even I can hear my words slurring. I haven't been this wasted in years.
"Sure thing." He picks up the phone, "Password protected?" I shake my head no. "Terry?" I shake my head yes as he hands it back to me.