Demi
I looked down at my phone with a sigh, Wilmer still hadn't answered me and it's been over two hours. I wanted to call, but lately he would get mad and say that he was busy or in the middle of something. A year ago, he would be the one texting me first and calling after ten minutes if I didn't answer. A year ago he would call me just to see how my day was going. Now, we barely talk at all. He doesn't call me after a big meeting or ask to grab lunch. It's silent, but my heart is screaming out.
He didn't wish me a happy anniversary today. When I asked him what he wanted to do tonight his face held a confused expression until it filled with realization and replied, 'nothing special.' He came home late, and told me he was stuck in traffic. The dinner I made was cold, and I could sense his heart was too.
He kissed me before we went to sleep that night, but when I tried to move my lips against his he pulled away and turned over to sleep, not even bothering to turn back to look at my hurt expression. The kiss didn't even feel right, it was as though he couldn't wait to get away, like he was thinking too much. I'm scared, because he's never done that. We don't sleep with our backs to each other, but pressed together as tightly as possible in the center of the bed. This scares me. The distance is overwhelming.
He came home for dinner tonight, but when we sat down at the table, he didn't make an effort to speak. I asked him how his day was, it took a few minutes before replied with 'good.' We're silent for the rest of the meal. When we're sitting on the couch I leaned into his body to stop my goosebumps but he shifts away, leaving me confused at the way he doesn't want me. He used to want me. He used to crave my touch as I did his. He used to kiss my neck and not let me focus on the movie, but now it's like I'm burning him. As if my touch could crack his cold heart.
I told him I loved him this morning, but I was greeted by a slamming door and a blast of cold air as he left for work. I told him I missed him when he came back that night, but he didn't answer. Instead he sat on the couch nursing a cold one as he watched the football game. That night I told him I loved him when we got into bed, and this time I was greeted by a respond, so quiet I knew he didn't intend for me to hear it. "You shouldn't." I stayed awake for a long time, and when I was certain he was sleeping, I turned over and examined him. He looked like my Wilmer, and in the this innocence of sleep I believed that I could lean over and wake him up by kissing him, and he'd kiss me back.
Today, he sighed. A lot.
He came home angry, and somehow told me it was all my fault. I tried soothing him, trying to pull him into my arms, but all he did was shove me away. Everything that once worked before now seems to be making it worse. He yells and yells, but nothing I can do helps. Eventually, he slams the door and leaves.
When he gets back he's calm, and he pulls me into a hug and says he's sorry. I say I'm worried, and I watch as he rolls his eyes and tells me I'm being ridiculous. He's insensitive, and I know something is changing. I voiced my concerns looking for comfort, but somehow all I receive is more insecurity and confusion. I don't want to think about losing him, but lately it's all that I wake up to.
He told me today that I complicate things and make him unhappy, so I went to the bedroom, not expecting him to follow me like I would've a year ago. Things have changed so quickly, in such a drastic way that I can't help but cry. I know he can hear me, but he doesn't come to comfort me. A year ago, things would've been different. He sleeps on the couch, and soon that becomes the norm. We don't speak, or say we love each other. He doesn't say good morning or make me coffee. We're strangers in the same house. He doesn't come home for dinner or sigh anymore. I would give anything for some sort of emotion. I miss the anger, the passion, the jealousy, the love. The wedge of silence is pulling us further and further apart.
Today he told me he wanted to talk, and I almost ran away to the bedroom again. I didn't want to talk anymore. Talking meant conversation and conversation meant losing him. But I nodded, keeping my emotions inside. He began, with a statement that completely crushed me.
I don't love you anymore.
I'm sure he continued, and I caught bits and pieces, but I wasn't comprehending anything. Eventually we sat there in silence, until he stood up. He kissed my forehead, then walked out the door. I can remember his last words.
I don't want to hurt you.
But he doesn't realize. He never will understand.
All I feel is pain.
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-Rachel
