After years of problematic sex, a two-week overseas vacation for which she "forgot" her contraceptives, and finally her declining my invitation to make love the morning we were back - choosing to unpack instead, I finally realized that it just wouldn't ever happen.
We had sex about three times a month, but it had become routinized and increasingly sterile. No kissing, no intimacy, just a "get it over with" attitude. Even non-sexual intimacy was somewhat formalized - once or twice a week she'd say "Turn around and I'll spoon you for five minutes."
While away, without her diaphragm, she suggested that it was my turn to take responsibility for birth control. Which would have been fine before we left, but in the middle of the night, in a foreign countryside, running out to buy condoms wasn't an option.
With jet-lag in our favor, kids asleep and our bodies saying it was noon when it was only 7AM, we had plenty of energy and time. But she needed her breakfast, a shower, and then an hour or two to unpack.
We fought, but my heart wasn't in it. It was broken, dead. It just didn't matter anymore.
I slept in the same bed with her one last night. She tried to be conciliatory the next morning, but when I drew away from her, she said I needed to learn to "let go" of things.
We fought again and she told me of all the resentments she'd been bearing for years. (As if I was the only one who didn't let go of things.)
But I didn't really feel anything. She no longer loves me. I slept in the spare bedroom that night and have ever since - six weeks.
After four days she asked how long I was going to punish her. I said I wasn't punishing her, just protecting myself. It was hard to sleep in the same bed with someone who scorned my touch. She sleeps in the nude and says my caresses keep her awake.
After a week she said she wanted to live as husband and wife. As if that was a novel idea and that my sexual frustration was part of that life.
She said I was blaming the victim - disposing of her like trash. I told her it was all my fault, that I destroyed her love for me with all my anger and resentment over the sexual problems. I said I wasn't throwing her away, but that I was abandoning her - leaving her bed.
Gradually, I removed my things from the bedroom. Occasionally she commented on the moves I made. She had a fit when I put curtains into my new bedroom, when I moved my satellite radio in, whenever I looked comfortable there.
She hasn't done a thing to stop me. "Do you expect me to beg?" she asks. "No. I don't expect anything."
I don't expect anything, but it's amazing to me that she's done nothing, even as she claims that she's hurt and angry. Most of the time she just laughs. I say "goodnight" and she laughs. But then she says she goes to sleep every night "missing" me, and feeling hurt and angry. But she's done nothing.
I won't tell her anything - we discuss only the business of our common lives now. Pick-up and drop-off times, kids' stuff, etc. I say excuse me, I'm not interested in this, when she tries to start a conversation. It's not very mature, I know, but where she refused sex with me, I'm refusing talk with her.
I'm open to any overture from her, for now. But I won't even give her a clue. She's smart enough and we've talked enough - she can figure something out. But she won't because it's not important to her.
Of course she's angry: she never thought I'd be the one to walk away. She thought she had me under control. She may have been getting ready to leave anyway, but I trumped her.
And it's "the kids". Just "the kids". Why not a divorce? "The kids!" What's wrong with separate bedrooms? "The kids!"
Never "But I love you." Never that.
Maybe she'll think about this - suggest marital counseling, just crawl into my bed unexpectedly, invite me into hers in some elaborate way. And I'd go along. But it would have to be 100% her idea and I know she'll never come up with anything like that. She'll just fume and fret.
Meanwhile, I'm getting more comfortable in my tiny room. I'm having a desk moved in, a tiny refrigerator, and some bookshelves as well. I'll work in there. It will be like a dorm room. She can keep the master bedroom, with its queen-size bed and separate bath. Just get all her stuff out of my closet and I'll put my stuff in. And that will do for the next five years, until the youngest kid is away.
It's not a perfect solution, but I'm actually happier now than I've been for years. I'm not having any sex, but it's my choice, and I'm not sleeping 24 inches away from the naked body of the woman I love anymore. It's lonely, but much more relaxed.
I won't change this, but she knows where to find me.
-Graystreet