My Spirit
Not Welcome
After getting more yelled at by my darling wife about how lazy and what a shitty husband I am we finally arrived at the dinner party to Jack and Julie's. They were Yvette’s friends but I couldn’t stand them one bit. Jack works in a bank somewhere in America and he never stops talking about how rich he is. Then it’s Julie, she doesn’t even have a job because she says that she’s afraid to work, like what the fuck?
But seeing that they are rich we got some very nice, posh food. My wife did much of the talking the whole night and I threw in some nods and some ‘mhm’s. But finally after 3 hours of pure posh torture we left. Neither of us spoke a word in the car on the way home nor when we arrived home. But just as I was about to slip under the covers to sleep, she looked at me with her lips pressed together which always meant something bad.
“What?” I asked harshly.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She said, glaring at me.
“Going to bed?” I laughed, trying to ignore her piercing eyes.
“You’re not welcome in this bed tonight Frank, you’re sleeping in the living room” She grinned and lay down on the bed.
“What the fuck did I do?!” I yelled at her.
“Well the house was a mess when I came home this evening and you didn’t say a word at the dinner party” She said smiling and turned off the lamp on her nightstand.
“You’re a real stuck up bitch did you know that?” I spat at her, feeling the hate coming my words, and walked out the room, hearing her follow me.
“I’m a what?!” She screamed with her extremely British, posh voice.
“You heard me” I smiled. Her jaw dropped but then she stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the door after her.
“Damn bitch” I whispered under my breath and let myself fall down on to the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees.
I haven’t slept in the same bed as my wife for over 2 years. Every night she would tell me that I wasn’t welcome in the bed because of the smallest things like once it was because she didn’t like the shirt I wore that day. Many of my friends ask me why I don’t just divorce her but I don’t want to be divorced at such a young age but I know that someday soon I’ll give up on this and go to search for…him.
But seeing that they are rich we got some very nice, posh food. My wife did much of the talking the whole night and I threw in some nods and some ‘mhm’s. But finally after 3 hours of pure posh torture we left. Neither of us spoke a word in the car on the way home nor when we arrived home. But just as I was about to slip under the covers to sleep, she looked at me with her lips pressed together which always meant something bad.
“What?” I asked harshly.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She said, glaring at me.
“Going to bed?” I laughed, trying to ignore her piercing eyes.
“You’re not welcome in this bed tonight Frank, you’re sleeping in the living room” She grinned and lay down on the bed.
“What the fuck did I do?!” I yelled at her.
“Well the house was a mess when I came home this evening and you didn’t say a word at the dinner party” She said smiling and turned off the lamp on her nightstand.
“You’re a real stuck up bitch did you know that?” I spat at her, feeling the hate coming my words, and walked out the room, hearing her follow me.
“I’m a what?!” She screamed with her extremely British, posh voice.
“You heard me” I smiled. Her jaw dropped but then she stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the door after her.
“Damn bitch” I whispered under my breath and let myself fall down on to the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees.
I haven’t slept in the same bed as my wife for over 2 years. Every night she would tell me that I wasn’t welcome in the bed because of the smallest things like once it was because she didn’t like the shirt I wore that day. Many of my friends ask me why I don’t just divorce her but I don’t want to be divorced at such a young age but I know that someday soon I’ll give up on this and go to search for…him.
♠ ♠ ♠
commeeeeents?<3