Translucent

I’m exhausted. I woke up at 5:30 am. I showered and then put on a pink, Marilyn Monroe babydoll tee, khaki shorts and my favorite running shoes and headed to the gym. I spent 90 minutes trying to burn off an overindulgent Thanksgiving--then came home and straightened up my house, drove my son and his buddy to the football field--and then continued to my sister’s house to help paint her spare bedroom. It has been an ongoing project.

Thanksgiving dinner was delicious in every way. My uncles announced that it was their 25th Thanksgiving dinner as a couple. They still seem to fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. Their home is beautifully decorated, as my uncle is an interior decorator. It is also filled with books, as his partner is an avid reader.

They seem to have all of the latest technologically advanced gadgets. They showed us how to use TiVo. We cooed over how cool it was, while we sipped sweet white Bordeaux. They gave us several copies of newly released films--and fed us a meal that was I-dare-you-not-to-purr-and-moan-while-you-chew yummy. My family is really great at putting together a fantastic meal as a team. Everyone got along well and the conversation between all 16 of us was lovely. My aunt noticed that I have lost weight, which I appreciated. There were enough desserts for at least five more holidays. I cherish my family!

My dad brought along a photograph of my mom, which was featured in an old newspaper. She was the president of a woman’s club and the local paper covered a meeting in which they prepared fancy cuisine. My mom’s pretty fingers were flared, as she was decorating a turkey with special spices and garnish. She was pregnant with my little sister in the photograph and her luminous, big blue eyes were fringed by her long lashes, as she gazed at the glazed bird. We miss her. My dad said she was “hot stuff”. The article was my dad’s way of bringing her to the table with us.

Speaking of anniversaries, my 13th wedding anniversary was last weekend. I scheduled an appointment for me and my hubby to have full body massages. My husband is having problems with his lower back, so I was hoping it would relieve some knots and tension from his tired muscles. I thought the idea of having them at the same time would be romantic.

The massage was sensational. The woman danced her dexterous fingers all over me, until I felt like I was floating.

My husband really enjoyed the experience. He fell asleep while his feet were being tenderly kneaded.

Afterwards, we went out to dinner. We ate quietly, since we were in a relaxed haze that rosé wine, fresh sourdough bread, garden salad, buttery seafood, well-done steak, rich chocolate mousse cake and hot coffee didn’t diminish. For some reason, the dinner date felt like we were going through the motions of a typical anniversary--the adoration, the spark, the connection felt like it was missing.


The massage was the highlight of our day.

We exchanged gifts in the morning. My husband shoveled down his breakfast and rushed away from the table. He came back and placed two extravagantly wrapped boxes in front of me with a card and strode into our home office to play in a poker tournament. I followed him into the room and left a large bag of presents on the floor next to his big basketball shoes. He opened them while he waited to catch good cards on the river. His reaction was muted compared to the highs and lows of each hand.

I ate my breakfast sandwich slowly with my children, as I unwrapped the ribbons. I like to savor food on Sundays, since I skip breakfast during the week. It felt kind of empty without his interest in my reaction. He was engaged in fishing for a flush, while I opened a romantic card and a large box of my favorite candy, Swedish fish.

Next, I opened a necklace. It was a white gold butterfly encrusted with white diamonds and a canary diamond was its centerpiece. It was a pretty choker. It sparkled on my neck, however I was feeling lackluster.

There were no hugs and kisses afterwards. No smiles. His attention was focused on breaking everyone at the table.

I’m used to receiving dazzling jewelry and gifts. I’m also accustomed to being forsaken for his hobbies. I have learned that he is not willing to share much of his time with me.

My husband is playing in a poker tournament tomorrow at a local club. On Sunday, he and his buddy are going fly fishing with a guide who they found on the internet. They plan to use waders. I think that they will freeze their butts off at this time of year. I hope they don't fall in the chilly water.

He will probably play cards online or Xbox live during most of his leftover free moments this weekend.

I am married, but companionless. I know that my husband loves me, but I don’t feel like we have a real bond. There is no fire to spend time together unless our parts are coupled. It makes me sad that the only time that he sees me, feels me is when I’m naked.

Our sex life is spectacular. Our friendship is lifeless.

This weekend, I’ll probably take my kids to see a movie, do some Christmas shopping and go the gym.

I need to make new friends. Loneliness feels comfortless and boring.

I’d trade my queen sized, overfilled jewelry box with all of its sparkling contents for genuine affection and attention. I crave intimacy embraced by an amiable alliance.