Pilot-Confessions of an unHappily Married Blogger

I am twenty-four-going-on-twenty-five and I would like to think of myself as a decent young man.

Heck, I am even a Christian, albeit a backslidden one. Well, maybe not backslidden, but not devout either.

I go to church mostly to make my wife happy and I admit that I am getting well versed in The Bible as a result.

Also, this regular church attendance has kept a lot of my sinful behaviors at bay.

As a bonus studying the Bible and hearing these timeless hymns has increased and enhanced my writing ability

I am not the cheating type, I mean, if I was, I would have done it already, many times over. I won’t lie, though, temptation stalks me at every turn I take.

This is because I am unhappily married. I’ve been married to this woman for a little over a year and her true colors are now boldly showing. She is starting to remind me of a certain coworker whom I abhor. The red flags were always there, but I chose to ignore them and got married anyway mostly due to a mixture of guilt for fornicating with her, but I also loved her, at least at some point I did and yes I am still attracted to her, although now only physically, nothing else. The deep, intimate connection is dead and gone.

It seems that as of lately that my wife is opposed to anything and everything that brings me joy.

I think her family motivates her to act this way towards me.

You see, I have some pretty neat and unique hobbies, whereas, they do nothing but get stoned in their free time.

I refuse to join them in their narcotic escapades and they resent the fact that they cannot drag me down with them.

I think they especially hate my writing hobby because the nature of my content somehow makes them feel bad about themselves.

I will admit that my narrative is in direct conflict with theirs, but I come from a profoundly different background than theirs.

They see me and my family as privileged and since the current political climate of 2011 is all about inciting a race and class war, they see us as the enemy though they won’t admit it.

As per my employment, I handle milk and eggs for a local grocer. The work is easy and I think I have my position down to a science, but the owners and upper-level management turn this place into an ultra toxic cesspool of misery. They treat us poorly and take advantage of the fact that there are no other jobs to be had.

Today, there is a new cashier who has joined the ranks. The first time I saw her, she smiled at me. She’s nineteen, with a beautiful super-sized body, long light brown hair, a flawless porcelain complexion, and did I mention she is bespectacled which makes her even more beautiful? I wanted to smile back, but despite being unhappily married, I do put forth a considerable degree of effort to honor my marriage, so I didn’t smile back. So far, never have I ever regretted being married as much as just now. How I wish I could talk to this girl and get to know her. And not only that, I want to hold her. I want to kiss her. I want to play with her hair and get lost in her embrace. I want to read my stories to her because maybe she will appreciate them, I mean she already physically resembles many of the female characters in the stories I write. There’s so much that I wish I could do with her and share with her but I can’t, at least not with a clear conscience, so maybe I’ll just write about her instead. I know for certain that she will give me plenty of inspiration, maybe even years down the road she will inspire me to write something great.

My work is almost done for the day, I place the last few cartons of eggs in the display cooler, then I throw my empty boxes away and clock out.

I drive home where my wife is sitting on the sofa binge-watching Teen Mom.

It’s Friday, and my money was direct deposited, and we need to pay some bills, namely the water and the electricity.

My wife takes forever to get ready but if I try to tell her to hurry up, she will just curse me lower than a dog.

Finally, she is ready.

We leave to go pay the bills.

I have a little cash left over.

I’m hoping to enjoy it, but my wife says how a family friend’s child is having a birthday party and we need to buy a gift.

Please don’t think I hate giving gifts to children because I don’t. However, I’d like to be able to enjoy my money sometimes.

I also hate spending all my days off at parties, when do I ever get time for myself?

I would love to just sit at my computer and write until my heart is content, but I can’t because I have all these undesired obligations.

Does my wife show me any appreciation for the sacrifices I make?

No. Just a sense of entitlement to the fruit of my sacrifices.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg of why I am unhappily married.

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