I am angry. Angry at her; angry at me for letting our relationship spiral out of control. Whenever, we had a problem I always relied on her to pull us back and get us re-focused on the love that was ours. Now, she no longer does that. If not her, who? Me? Are you kidding? I wouldn’t know where to begin.

The silence in our home is killing me. I often ask myself is this beyond repair? The only problem is that I am not sure that I can survive without her. She has been my rock, my one constant for so many years. But I have told you that already haven’t I? It’s just so fucking overwhelming. Once you find love, this relationship stuff is supposed to just fall in line. Especially when you find a love like ours. To be honest there are not many loves like ours once was. When I think about where we were and where we are now, I am faced with my own imperfections. That I, Bette Porter, despite my best efforts may not be able to have and maintain the perfect life. I guess I got spoiled and stopped paying attention to her. My disposition was so sour for so long, because I hated my job, that I lost sight of her; of us. I think I have pushed her too far, and that burns a hole in my soul.

Tina, My Tina. I don’t think she has cheated on me; I am not sure how I would react if she has.

I haven’t gone outside of our relationship. Honestly, I think my pussy has packed up and moved to Siberia. I’m just not interested in sex. If I can’t make love to her, why do it? Everyone else pales in comparison.

Sometimes at night, when I am in my room I think of our lost love life. I can still remember the feel of her skin. The look in her eyes when I slid my fingers inside of her. The wetness that coated my fingers so completely. The arch in her back from the flick of my tongue. The cries of I Love You, when I would say ‘cum for me.’ I also remember specific love-making sessions. Like the time when Tina and I slipped away from a CAC gala to the rooftop of the parking garage. She opened to hatch to our SUV, slowly turned away from me and bent over without saying a word. I could smell her wetness before I lifted her dress. I had no choice, but to sink to my knees, my custom tailored suit be damned, and suck all of the cum from her throbbing core. I get wet just thinking about that night. I don’t think I was able to hold an intelligent conversation for the remainder of the evening.

I also remember our early morning conversations. We would spend time in bed each morning, just sharing with each other our thoughts and feelings about any and every topic that came to mind. When did we stop sharing and why didn’t I notice it sooner?

I want that back. How do I right this sinking ship? I’m not sure, but I need to do something quickly. My thoughts and feelings are all over the place. I don’t know what Tina is feeling; but I feel crazy. My grip on my sanity is tenuous (at best) these days. Some days I want to recapture our greatness; other days I wonder if it’s worth the effort. Everyone knows how I feel about therapy, but honestly I think it may be the only way that we can identify root cause of our problems and push forward. The thing is; I have told Tina that I think we need therapy to which she agreed, but has not mentioned it since. I guess that is my excuse for not re-visiting the topic with her. It would be easier if I knew what she wanted. Does she want me? Does she need me the way I need her? It’s all so damned mysterious. To be perfectly honest, I am afraid to ask her. I am afraid of what she may say.

I guess I have simply lost my nerve, my fight. How do I find it? As I ponder all of this I close my eyes and allow the remote from the television to fall from my hand onto the floor. The flicker of light from the television fills the room as I stare into the darkness. The tears flow from my eyes quickly and I wonder is Tina sleeping peacefully over there? Does she know the pain that I am in? Does she care? I slowly start to lose my battle with sleep. My last thoughts before I am in complete slumber: maybe tomorrow I will ask her; If not tomorrow, when (how many days can I let go by before my house of cards collapses around me)?