Going Nowhere

February 12, 2017

Michael was breathing quietly next to me. The warmth pressed into my shoulder, making the guilt worse as I attempted to move his arm. He shifted, as he usually did. I placed his arm back down on the sheets and slid off the edge of the bed.

 

My feet padded across the carpet as I neared the door, pulling my sweater tighter around my stomach. I had mastered this walk down the hall, knowing exactly where to step to stay silent. The floorboards moved under my weight, but would only creak under a certain pressure. When I made it to the couch, I had to ease down, letting the pillows wheeze while they adapted to my weight.

 

I pulled the blanket down from over the back of the couch. I had been leaving it there every night, knowing I would eventually rest here once Mike fell asleep. The blanket fell over my painfully dull stomach, wrapping it up like a child.

 

After tossing and turning for a while I might make my way back to bed. I would lie awake until Michael woke next to me. Other mornings I would stay on the couch, Michael coming out to kiss me good morning whether I sat wide awake or gently snoring. I haven’t stayed next to him in bed for a full night in about a month.

 

“Anna?” Michael groggy voice followed me.

 

I sighed, closing my eyes and pulling the blanket farther up. This wasn’t the first night he had found me after I escaped bed. Most of the time he would ask if I was okay and I would nod; giving him a tight smile. Then I might let him hug me, putting all of his drowsy weight into me and then follow him back to bed. He would fall back asleep and I would stay wide awake, too guilt-ridden to sleep.

 

Michael walked around the room, coming to sit on the edge of the couch. He rubbed his hand over my shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?”

 

I pulled the blanket down just enough so he could see me nod. Michael nodded in response. He knew there was nothing that could be said.

 

“Can we talk about this?” He whispered, continuing the calming touch along my skin.

 

Can we talk about the fact that I can’t give him the life he wanted? Can we talk about how we are going to see all of our friends grow up and get married and have kids, but we can’t? What if he leaves me? Can we talk about how we barely touch each other anymore, let alone have sex, because, what’s the point, right?

 

“What do you think we have to talk about?” I sigh, wrapping my fists tighter in the covers.

 

Michael leans down, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “I miss you. I know that this isn’t easy, but I really miss you. I miss your smile so much. You haven’t laughed in a long time. I feel like I’m losing you.”

 

I clenched my eyes shut. A shaky breath eases past my lips. “I’m not the same anymore. I’m not as...ignorant. Now that I know… I’m not the same. I can’t undo it.”

 

He sighs. “Then let me help you.”