I know I said I wouldn’t … Pt 15

Day 5296
A night out again. [This is not likely to be a continuing occurrence. Just a couple of consecutive weekends where there have been things we, as parents, wanted to do specifically without juvenile company.]
It’s anything but early. Nearly an hour after we’d usually be up on a week day and around the time She usually stirs when I’ve got up earlier than Her at the weekend.
I put my hand on Her thigh.
Not a flinch.
I take it away.
A minute later She shifts and Her hand moves to rest against my shoulder. Against, but not on.
I put my hand back. Just a little nearer to Her snatch.
And nothing.
Nothing.
NOTHING.
Fuck it.
Take my boner downstairs for tea and TV.

Day 5302
As of today, it’s 18 days since She went back to work, 18 days since we had moderately good sex, and 8 days since we had bad sex. But who’s counting?

Day 5303
I was ready to get out of bed. It’s self defeating I know, to avoid sex when that’s exactly what I want, but it’s not sex I’m running away from, rather the perpetually difficult sex We have.
Her hand rested on my shoulder. Oh well.
She goes to the bathroom.
When She comes back, She snuggles up and starts to rub my chest with Her thumb.
Her body isn’t quite as close to mine as usual, so with my arm between us, my hand rests on Her thigh. I stroke the side of it.
She strokes my stomach.
I stroke the front of Her thigh. And She twists to stop me. “No” #1.
She moves to get my arm around Her shoulders and as She does, I try to take Her nightshirt off. I’m allowed to lift it, but Her elbows tuck in so it can’t be removed. No” #2.
I put my hand towards Her chest. Not even Her tits, below that, Her ribs. And Her arms move to bar my way. No” #3.
Three “Nos” probably in as many minutes, and as we get to “No” #3 every ounce of my lust dissipates.
I pull Her a little closer and position my arms where they will halt Her progress. My hand on Her arm to limit the scope of Her continuing thumb.
Her persistence starts to get irritating, so my restraint of Her hand is more deliberate.
We pause in silence. Not a word had been spoken.
She rolls away, and with Her back to me, pulls the covers around Her.
I lie there for a few minutes. I don’t want to be in bed with Her. It seems pretty obvious that She doesn’t want to be in bed with me. So I get out of bed, collect my clothes, and go downstairs.
All this, without a single word.

One mug of tea later and I go back up stairs. As I walk into the bedroom …
Her: Are you going for a shower.
Not exactly an opening gambit that says She wants to engage. Nonetheless, I sit down on the bed.
Me: I don’t know.
Her hand rests on my arm.
Me: I don’t understand how I can get it so wrong so quickly.
I kind of do, but anything other than that will sound like You only ever say “No”.
Her: Sometimes when I wake up my shoulders are really tense.
A not uncommon excuse.
And then I ran Her through “Nos” #1 – #3.
Her: We weren’t very close and I couldn’t reach most of you.
Me: I’m not allowed to touch most of you.
There was a pause.
Her: What do you think it means when I twitch or turn?
I had to think about that. Not because I didn’t know the answer – that is obviously that She is saying “No”. I had to think about it so as not to apportion blame.
Me: That I keep getting it wrong.
Her: That sounds like blame.
The reality is, it was blame. I do think it’s Her fault. Maybe not fault, because that implies conscious intent, but She’s rarely in the mood and even when She is, She shows absolutely no sign of letting me enjoy Her body … except when I stick my dick in it. And that’s a bit late.
Another pause …
Me: Who do you think I’m blaming?
Her: I don’t know. You?
The conversation went on.
Her: Nothing I did was working.
Me: By that time, all my interest, motivation, mood, [… I laughed – “mood” wasn’t exactly the word I was looking for. It came from “being in the mood”, but perhaps it said more about me being “moody”? You have to laugh at your own Freudian irony! …] that had long gone.
She said something about the time period, the last …?… She didn’t know how long it was … since … since sex had been going right for us.
Me: It’s since you went back to work.
A bit more conversation I can’t recall.
Me: On the couple of occasions since that I’ve tried to initiate sex, you’ve stopped me pretty much straight away.
Her: I can’t remember specifics, but there have been enough mornings when I’ve felt pretty crap.
I wondered which were the mornings we might have had a chance. And why the evenings weren’t considered.
Me: This is not blame. Just an observation. Every time over the last three … four years, when we’ve started having sex again it’s been in the holidays. This is not blame. Then you go back to work, and it all falls apart again. I know you’re stressed or tired or something …
I’m not sure what was said next. She said something about needing to communicate. I wanted to ask what was stopping Her communicate, but thought better of it.
Me: I don’t think it’s ever going to change.
Based on empirical evidence, I don’t.
Her: That doesn’t make me want to make any effort.
So if I don’t think anything’s going to change, that demotivates Her. If I lose hope, why shouldn’t She? There are days … weeks … months when I wish She would give up, once and for all. Closure.
Her: I understand you feel frustrated …

But I don’t think She does understand the frustration.
Here’s why. I’ve done the maths.
Imagine I’ve wanted to have sex, let’s say conservatively, 9 times a week – that’s 6 mornings and 3 nights a week (very conservative!!!) for three or four years … actually, no, I might have said 3 or 4 years to Her, but it’s really more than 7 years (and that’s just since our sex life turned from acceptable to bad): I’d estimate I’ve wanted sex 3276 times. (The reality is probably more like 5000. ie Pretty much every morning, and every night, and more than enough times in between. But lets stick with conservative for the moment.)
And in that time, let’s be generous and say She wanted sex a couple of times a month. Granted, when we have got back in the saddle, there might have been a handful of weeks when we’ve fucked twice, or maybe even three times, but only handful of weeks, and there must have been plenty of weeks when She didn’t want sex at all. So I reckon twice a week is being extremely generous. But then of course, there’s the 8 months straight last year when we never had sex. And the 8 months the year before. And the 7 months the year before that. Before that, I can’t remember, so we’ll leave it there, but that’s 23 months out of 7 years. So let’s say She’s wanted sex 122 times.
Even if we had had sex every time She was in the mood, a conservative estimate is equivalent to me not getting something I want about 96% of the time. Something that, for me, underpins a relationship. She knows it’s frustrating for me? Really? How frustrating does She think 96% is? I don’t think it would be prudent to ever ask that question directly.

For a some time there had been the sounds of an uncommonly industrious child downstairs laying breakfast. Thankfully our conversation was drawn to a close, when footsteps ascended the stairs and our bedroom door was slowly pushed open.

9 Responses to “I know I said I wouldn’t … Pt 15”

  1. Thing is… if you don’t tell her this, if you can’t put the facts straight to her and she’s not able to get this… how can it change?
    Other thing is: if things don’t change, what are you willing to do? What are you willing to accept?

    Good luck!
    XO

  2. corsetandstockings Says:

    Oh, I want to cry… 96%
    I kind of get it, for most of my marriage I wanted sex but not with him (not saying that’s the case for Her) so 96% of the time I could have sex but with zero satisfaction so I opted for nought.

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