My husband's strong hands wrap themselves around my neck, his long fingers entangling themselves in my hair. A fit of passion has possessed him, and he clings to me as though I am the only woman on the earth. His lips roam my body, his tongue gracefully and wonderfully teasing my flesh. His warm breath on my skin is strangely unmoving. He holds my body close, clinging to me as though I were life itself. He pulls me on top of him, trying to arouse me with his touch. He whispers my name and pleads with me to pleasure him.

For the first time, I am numb. The softness of his voice, the sincerity of his eyes... it all means nothing to me. Nothing.

I give him what he wants, trying to waylay his suspicions. He wants kisses, so I kiss him. His breath, once so sweet and warm, is so unwelcomingly lingering with my own. His tongue probes my mouth, and I find myself drifting away into boredom. He caresses my body, and I nearly jerk away with disgust. He is trying to rekindle the passion we once had, and I am spitefully going through the motions.

I must do this, however. When I arrived at the restaurant this evening, he pulled me aside from our friends. He gave me a Look and asked, point-blank, "Why are you all dressed up?"

I haven't done my hair, makeup, or dressed nicely for the last several months. Tonight, I went all-out, getting prepared for the evening. Our "special" friends from last night were supposed to be joining us. My husband had noticed my crestfallen expression when he said they wouldn't be coming. It was at that point he asked if he could talk to me privately.

"For you, of course," I reply, offended. Few things are as offensive as the truth, you know. "Why else would I dress like this? I put a lot of effort into how I looked today, and I did it for you."

"Thank you," he said, clearly relieved.

How innocent and naive he is!!!

That's alright, though. I've been in his shoes before--I know what it's like to want to believe a lie. I wanted to believe he wasn't a porn addict. I used to want to believe that he didn't have phone sex with my friends. But he did, and it's done with now. I first thought to justify this as punishment, but it has gone much farther than that. I have no interest in my husband anymore.

I went on with my evening, craving to check my email to see if my beloved had emailed me yet. Still no response. How I miss him! How I miss the way my heart dances at the very thought of his name...

My husband used the laptop today. I panicked when he looked at the history. I forgot to delete Shoutpost from my history. He has taken to checking my email, checking my MySpace, etc. etc. I feel like he's stalking me, just to make sure I don't do anything drastic.

How I would love to have an affair.

Being trapped in my husband's embrace was torture to my soul. I felt like I was betraying my beloved. How I would love to feel his arms around me! How I would love to rest my head against his chest, and snuggle so close against him. How I would love to sink into his embrace, to finally find my peace and rest!

But still--I am married! I should be seeking to love my husband, not dreaming of another. I want to love my husband. I want to want him. I want to need him with the same need I have for other men. I want to be able to talk to him and care for him and enjoy his company.

But it doesn't feel possible anymore.

How far hidden is happiness from my eyes! Alas, alas... My sorrow is near too much to bear.