about last night

Last night…at least for part of the night…I slept with my wife for the very last time.

We turned out the lights, got under the covers, intertwined our legs and arms, matched our breathing…and we were together. A position we’ve been in so many times before…a familiar interface. We’ve always fit together well…our bodies aligned and comfortable.

Last night, however, we both knew it was the last time. And it was bittersweet.

My wife hasn’t shared a room with me for about a month now and, after tomorrow, she will not longer share a house with me. It’s like watching an approaching flood. You know it’s on its way…almost here…inevitable…but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. I know it’s over, but there are enough bits and pieces of normal still surrounding me that I can’t fully feel it.

She came home a little while ago. We barely spoke. I was a bit of a jerk this morning and she is upset and distant. This whole thing has been hell on both of us. She got ready for bed, went into her room, closed and locked the door, turned out the lights…all without me.

I don’t know what to feel.

I know I have been the best husband I can be. I know I have loved during good times and painful times. I know that I can’t force another person to love me in return…and that trying only pushes her further away.

So, I’m sitting outside of that closed room…sitting outside of that closed heart…numb.


I have no more tears to cry…at least for now. More will come tomorrow.

In a while, I will go to what used to be our bed…what is now just my bed…and I will feel the weight of my aloneness and the crushing absence of the arms and legs that should be intertwined with mine.

And I will think about last night.


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