Making Him Mine

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

I watch him while he sleeps. It’s the only time that he is mine, all mine. When there’s no phone, no ringing, no meetings, no other people involved. It’s just him and I. 

He snuffles a bit and turns over, bringing the blanket underneath his chin. I stroke his face gently, careful not to wake him up. I definitely don’t want that to happen. Then it will immediately be jumping onto the devices, taking the car out to go to the office, and I won’t see him until later, much too late for me. 

I want to be with him always. 

For now, he’s no one else’s but mine. 

I can’t stop him from waking up, though, and after a while he does, blinking groggily and checking the time on his phone. I pretend to be waking up as well.

“Good morning, cupcake,” he kisses me on the nose and stumbles off to the bathroom. Well, it has begun. The day that snatches my darling away. 

After he’s gone, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. There’s nothing I really want to do anymore. There’s nowhere that I need to be. No one that needs me. So I wait, I wait for him to come back, wait until he’s tired and then we’ll be in bed together. 

It is the only thing that gets me through the day. 

I eat lunch alone. Lunch is an apple. I’m not very hungry. I haven’t burnt that many calories today while lounging in bed.

I cook dinner. We usually order in, but today I’m feeling restless. I cook him a roast, along with some potatoes. A meal for a man. Because that’s who he is. He is a man. 

It’s late. I wait for him to come home. The time passes slowly. The phone doesn’t ring. Finally, I hear the car pull up outside, and there he is, my one and only, he’s coming up to the door. Only he’s not alone. 

“Cupcake?” He’s calling to me, and I leave my perch by the window to hurry towards the front door. 

“Yes dear?,” I say demurely, and come to kiss him on the cheek. “How was your day at work?” Then, not wanting to be rude, “And who is this?”

‘This’ is a short man with thick stubble on his face, whose hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in a month. He wears baggy pants and a tight shirt – the exact opposite of what would suit him best. 

“This is the man! Manuel Peters, from college! He was in town and I thought it would be fun to hang out a bit tonight. Home was on the way to the bar. Do you mind, honey?”

Suddenly, he sniffs the air and realizes what I did. 

“Oh, did you make dinner?,” he breathes in appreciatively and gives me a one armed hug. I say nothing, for what is there to say? Isn’t it obvious all the hard work I’ve put in? Is he really just going to leave me to go play with his college buddy?

“Let’s eat here and go out after,” he tells Manual, and Manuel nods and says a gruff thanks to me. I don’t want him in the house, but I must be a good wife, I must. It’s the only way I’ll keep him. 

Dinner is a quick affair. I don’t eat much. I only made enough food for two. 

Him and Manuel crack jokes the whole time and thank me for the meal by seeing who can burp the loudest and the longest. I’m glad to see the back of them when they’re gone. 

But as soon as he’s out of the house I only want him back, back in our bed, with his eyes closed, sleeping right next to me. 

I wait for him to come home but I must fall asleep before he does because I wake up to my alarm going off and his warm body beside mine. 

I silence the soft noise very quickly. I don’t want to wake him up, I don’t want to stir him. I want him to stay sleeping while I look at him, for hours. During the only hours that exist of the day when he is all mine. 

His breathing sounds a bit irregular, like his nose might be stuffed. The noise grates on my nerves. There’s nothing I can do about it, but after a while I want to get away. So I get up and go to the kitchen where I make myself a cup of coffee. But then I miss him too much so I put it down and go back to bed, propping my elbow up and resting my chin on my palm in order to get a better view of him. 

Of mine. 

His alarm goes off too soon, bringing him back to the rest of the world. I give a telltale moan, hoping to keep him in bed a little while longer with my body, and it works. But then it’s over and he’s gone again and I’m left to my own devices.

It’s not safe for me to be left alone. It’s not safe for me to be by myself. I want company, I need company. I debate calling him, but I don’t want to sound needy. I wish he never had to go. 

The day passes slowly.

He calls me before he leaves work, telling me he needs to buy some drinks for the office, he lost a bet or something else silly like that. I listen and say of course sweetie, I miss you sweetie, see you whenever, but my insides feel empty like I just swallowed a cleaning agent that dissolves everything it touches. 

The sky is dark, and this time I keep myself up late enough to hear him enter. I’m in bed, listening. He rummages in the fridge, looking for leftovers, but we ate it all last night, and tonight I didn’t feel like cooking. He usually forgets about takeout when coming back this late. I picture him looking through the fridge, his brain slightly fuzzy from all the alcohol he is sure to have consumed tonight. He sees the only thing that I know there is ready to eat, a small plate of crispy cookies that I baked earlier. I hear the telltale crunch telling me that I’m right. He shuffles his way to bed, plate of cookies in hand, slamming open the door and then whispering shhh at it as if it is the door’s fault that he is drunk and clumsy. 

I wait for him, keeping my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. He falls down and can’t even bring himself to take off his socks and shoes before he’s snoring. 

I remove them lovingly, tucking them underneath the blanket, making sure he’s nice and snug. 

The snoring is bothering me again. I don’t want him to be snoring. 

I take the pillow. I press down, using force until the snoring stops. 

Ah, there. That’s much better. 

I go to sleep with a smile. 

In the morning, my alarm goes off and I quickly silence it. I turn to look at him. 

His eyes are closed, his face is pale. His body is rigid. He looks peaceful. 

I’m not stressed about him going to work anymore, and I bring my finger up to slowly stroke it down his face.

Now he will be mine forever.

New Year, New Me

Photo by Joe Caione on Unsplash. It was just too adorable not to post, and it’s a good reflection of my current mood.

It’s been a long time. I apologise for that. I didn’t mean to be away for so long. To all my adoring fans – I hope you forgive me, and thank you to everyone who reached out to wonder where I was and ask after my wellbeing. 

The truth is, having a job is hard (who woulda thunk). It’s time consuming. And most of all, it’s mind consuming. Yeah, if I work for eight hours a day and sleep for eight hours a day that should mean that I have eight hours a day to do the other things that matter to me. And while technically that’s true, those number don’t factor in; eating food, the time it takes to cook that food, essential exercise after sitting at a desk all day, building relationships with important people in your life, and of course the mind numbing joy of binge watching TV shows. 

But while I might feel like I have a good excuse to not work on being the best adult I can be and sharing my thoughts with the world, I also understand a lot more about why some people ‘make it’ and others fail. If you really want to succeed in life, it requires sacrifice. Whether of your valuable downtime, or your relationships, or your physical health, you can’t have everything. 

And that’s frustrating. I kind of thought I could have a dream and then put in a bit of effort and accomplish this dream. But recently I’ve been putting in almost zero effort. And accomplishing dreams need 200% of the effort that exists in you. 

So, yeah, I haven’t been pushing myself as hard as I could be lately.  

That isn’t to say that I haven’t been doing a lot!

As I mentioned, I do have that new job that I’m working really hard at to impress my bosses. So far they have said that they admire my efficiency (multiple times), so I think I’m doing good on that part. 

Also, it’s the Jewish New Year. With that comes a slew of holidays where we can’t work, so I have less days of my life that I’m available to write new posts. That’s a pretty good excuse, right? The truth is, there will always be a good excuse, but that one does make me feel particularly good about where I am right now. I’ve been cooking and cleaning a ton, and we have a house guest here for a month during a second lockdown of the country (of course covid-19 has to come up), so sometimes instead of working I just need to put my feet up and lie down. 

Speaking of feet, I’ve been running a ton as well. I’m so frightened of the negative effects on health that sitting can cause, and now that that’s literally my job, I feel that it’s my job as well to get out there and stretch my legs (this was one of the reasons that I never wanted a desk job, because I love moving, I need to move, and my body gets so stiff from sitting all day. Never thought I would miss being a Hydrotherapist, but I do. Although getting a work from home job is the best thing to happen to me in a while). I might not be running a marathon any time soon (it was cancelled again), but darn it if I’m not going to continue to get into the best shape of my life. 

So, that’s me. I’m, dare I say it, happy. I don’t even know why, only that it feels good to have so many productive things happening, even if there is a nagging thought in the back of my brain reminding me about my lack of writing. 

And I apologise about Short Story Sunday! Almost every holiday fell out on a Sunday, or Sunday Eve, so there was just no time for my regular posting. Okay, okay, I know that’s no excuse. I’m sorry. 

Today I woke up and my boss said there’s no work. That’s a first. She said there might be some stuff coming in later, but for now the morning stretched ahead of me, delightedly free of obligation. So of course I had to obligate myself with something. Writing!

I’ve been ruminating over a couple of things for the past month. While I haven’t actually written a post, or put anything down on paper for that matter, sometimes I write in my head. I think of topics, and write out whole stories, and of course assume that I’m never, ever, ever going to forget this because it’s too good. 

And then I do. 

It’s inevitable. 

But because this is an update post, I feel like I can throw out a bunch of ideas and get into them more in depth next time. 

So, first of all, I took it upon myself to try to be on my phone less. I watched the Social Dilemma, and while it might not have been brand new information, the truth is, it freaked me the heck out. 

For anyone who hasn’t seen it, I would definitely recommend watching it. It’s just about how social media is ruining our lives, which any noob can tell you. But it also showed how the algorithms work, and how the job of these apps and websites is to trip you and make you fall down the rabbit hole. And I don’t want to do that. I want to be so much better than that. I really want to write a whole post on this, but for now I’m just going to mention that I watched it, and decided to try to ‘do technology’ less. 

So I googled (ironic) Top 100 Books To Read, and started going down the list to see what vital stories I’m missing. 

I’m a huge reader, so I have made my way through my fair share of them without help, but I didn’t go to a school that cared much about the classics, or any of the English classes for that matter. That made me lack some of those novels that every teenager makes their way through, either by book, movie, or Spark’s Notes, but I had never laid eyes upon. 

So far I’ve made my way through The Handmaid’s Tale, Fahrenheit 451, and I’m currently on the sequel of Margarat Atwood’s masterpiece. 

Again, I want to discuss these books in more detail, but this post isn’t the time nor place. 

This post is to remind myself of my dreams, and what I hoped to accomplish by starting this blog. And to remind you all that when you stumble you can always, always, always no matter what get up again. Even if everyone calls you out on being a fake, or even if you yourself feel like it’s been ages so what’s the point of trying. 

Just something I like to remind myself of as well, on occasion. 

Let me know how September treated you all! What are your plans for this new school year 2020 (when is it not going to feel like school season? I’ve graduated like nine years ago). 

Life is awesome.