a day without her

chapter 1

Johns's alarm clock wakes me up. I have another two hours before I have to go to work and he only has 30 minutes. He peers over at me but I pretend to be asleep. I start to wonder if my sleep looks convincing. I don't know how I look when I'm asleep, my eyes are always closed.

John works at the community college. I think he can get a better job but he doesn't. I work at the law office in the next town over. I am a secretary. We make enough money, we have a small house and go out to a restaurant twice a month. John wants kids. I don't.

I pretend to sleep for a few more minutes when John sneaks out of the room, trying not to wake me. I feel like a liar. I feel stuck. I lay there a while longer, I can finally relax alone. Then I hear the door open. I feel more relieved than anything. I love John. But I love John the wrong way. I should love everything about him, but he feels like more of a friend than a husband.

John and I got married right out of college. I graduated in '86, John in '88. He wanted to teach. So he got his degree to teach. And then we got married.

Marrying John felt practical. He was one of the few of my boyfriends that stuck, he seemed to like me. And I liked John, as a friend. John never has to know that I don't love him the way he loves me. The first time I stayed the night I wanted to throw up. I told him that I was just nervous, the first time always hurts. But that wasn't it. And it never got better for me, I just got better at pretending.

The front door closes, the car starts. John is out of the house. I go downstairs for breakfast and the paper. There are grease stains on the pages with the sports stats. John had bacon this morning. I try to enjoy the rest of the stories but those few pages have been tainted with his presence. I don't hate him, but I hate every part of our life together. It all feels so wrong.

My mother always told me to go to a decent college, get a decent job, and marry a decent man. I did exactly what she said and I'm not happy like she and Dad were. Mom and Dad haven't been getting along so well lately. That's probably what 40 years in the same house with the same house does to people. But they used to be so happy. John and I were never like that. We skipped right to year 40.

When I was growing up, my parent's relationship was almost idealistic to me. Mom, dad, two and a half kids in a quiet suburban neighborhood. It wasn't really two and a half kids, it was me, my younger sister, and our dog Duke. But we were cookie-cutter perfect, and that's what I've modeled my life after. My life isn't that perfect, so I guess I've failed.

I hear my alarm clock go off upstairs. I run up to turn it off on the slight chance that I'll wake up a neighbor. It's time to get ready for work.

I savor my shower. It's by far the best part of my morning. I get to feel fresh, clean, born anew. I can close my eyes and pretend I'm a different person in my ideal life. I try not to think about those fantasies when I leave the bathroom.