"Everything But the Sex" Couples

I don’t buy the “everything but the sex” couples.

I am looking for a reason. You are looking for a reason.

Affairs are a reminder of what is missing. As much as I love my partner, the thought of not experiencing passion, desire ever again makes me want to weep.

I keep looking for someone that can give me that. Occasionally, I find it, most often I don’t. But not trying to find it would leave me dead inside.

I am already.

Dead inside.

This dead bedroom has killed me from the inside out. It has pummeled me. Will I ever get back my vibrancy and confidence? Will I ever feel beautiful again?

Why did my marriage turn out this way?

I get mad that I didn’t get the fairy tale ending.

When I see the Facebook posts of couples, I know brimming with happiness; I get resentful. Why not us?

“Happy anniversary to my love, my best friend, the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Ugh, no. Stop. Don’t read the comments, I whisper to myself. Don’t. You'll only feel worse. Why must they be perfectly happy?

I force myself to swipe past the post.

Instead, I’m ashamed. I should try harder. Maybe my husband would want me.

When I think about the past, I am so embarrassed. This is me in a sundress and perfume throwing myself at my spouse. I've talked, asked, begged, pleaded, accused, and cried. Once in a while, he’d acquiesce, but mostly I was better off throwing myself at a brick wall.

I should have stopped caring long ago.

Why bother?

I will never debase myself like that again. You either want me or not.

And since you don’t, the field is wide open as far as I’m concerned. I have the green light.

I’m ready. Both feet are pointing towards the door. It’s a pity you can’t tell. I'm angling my phone away so you don't see my incriminating searches. You don't notice, of course. You rarely look at me anymore.

I should have started cheating years ago.

No counseling, no negotiating, nothing.

I’m appalled at how much I cared. Why did I marry a man who could push me aside so easily?

Now, I tilt my cell phone, and I have passcodes on every device. I don’t tell him what I’m doing online because it involves incognito browsers. He doesn’t ask either. He sits in his room and I sit in mine.

We don’t share conversation or body heat. Let alone a sex life.

Nowadays, I know better; I outsource sex.

I’m a much happier woman.

Is this the secret?

All my marriage needed was for me to find a lover? Why did I spend all those years miserable?

What was I trying to prove? A fantasy of a good union? I had that in spades.

The reality was far different.

Zero sex and be resigned to it?

Pointless and depressing.

Is this the answer? Seemed like it.

I got the promise of passion with each liaison. Lovers were infinitely better than husbands. They wanted to keep you satisfied. The beauty of this type of arrangement was that I couldn’t get sick of them. Seeing each other once a week or a few times a month for heady sex was easy. No bills to pay. No annoying relatives. No dividing chores. No messy arguments about children. No fighting over money.

Only desire and fun.

Of course, my miserable marriage couldn’t compete.

Affairs have a way of blinding you to reality.

So “everything but the sex” couples watch out! It’s a matter of time.

Resentments will grow.

Not if. Just when.

Until the unthinkable becomes thinkable.

“I could just cheat.”

Welcome to adultery land.