I do not see her from one day to the next.

All I know is that she exists.

She has her life and I have mine.  Apparently.

We live in completely different worlds but within the same house.

We have lived like this for the virtual duration of our marriage.

I met her once a long, long time ago.

It really was a long time ago.

She was young and adorable and I fell in love with her.

Sometimes I permit myself an occasonal peep at her social media feeds and wonder if this beautiful, extraordinary woman was ever, is or will ever be my wife.

There is a child between us whom she and I co-parent.

The child is fed, clothed and loved.

Our co-habitation is lived out in the environs of silent shadows on a daily basis but our paths never cross.

It is, of course, curious what brought this woman and I together in the first place and why we continue to co-habit in this way.

Divorce is not an option.

This is a marrage serving a purpose to create a perception of a happy family but those who know the players know that is not the reality.

There are bars on the windows of the home and and a high enclosing wall.

Darkness is perpetual and there are few visitors.

Words are never spoken between us.  Smartphone Text messages are rarely exchanged.

Body language speaks volumes of two people who are strangers to each other within a marriage.

This is a marriage of silence, solemnity and solittude.

Never to see her womanliness for all these years.

Never to touch or kiss.

Never to know the meaning of shared love and happiness.

Never to whisper sweet nothings in her ear or be shown gratitude for a surprise gift.

Never to know (or need to know) the timing of her menstruation.

Never to know what she is wearing or what is on her mind.

Never to taste the cuisine of her food or hear her crackle of laughter to a silly joke.

Many a time I have certainly plucked courage and tried to show conviction but i have been beaten back with fierce resistance.

There comes a time when you just accept the way things are and believe that is how things are meant to be.

But I tell you honestly.  This is a woman I love.

Now, I see a man with his arms wrapped around her and his lips pressed against hers.

I know that man.

But that man is not he who writes this now.


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