Right, let’s talk about this. The whole ‘no affection in marriage’ thing. It’s not like a switch flips off. It’s slow. Creeps up on you, really. For me, it wasn’t yelling or big fights. It was just… quiet. Too quiet.
I remember realising it wasn’t just a busy week or stress from work. It was months. We lived in the same house, slept in the same bed, but it felt like we were roommates. Not even friendly roommates, sometimes. Just… occupants. Shared bills, managed kid schedules, coordinated groceries. That was the extent of our partnership.
My Attempt at Fixing Things (Sort Of)
So, what did I do? Well, first, I probably did what most folks do. I ignored it. Hoped it would just… go away. Got busy with work. Took up extra projects. Stayed late. Anything to not be home in that quiet chill.
Then I tried, kind of. You know, suggesting a date night. It usually got shot down. “Too tired.” “Too expensive.” “Kids need us.” Fair points, maybe, but they felt like excuses after a while. I tried buying flowers once. Got a polite “Oh, thanks,” and they were put in a vase in a corner I rarely looked at. Felt stupid, honestly.
I remember one specific evening. We were watching TV. Or rather, the TV was on. We were both scrolling on our phones. Side by side on the sofa, but miles apart. I tried reaching over, just to hold her hand. She flinched. Not violently, just… a small, surprised pull-back. Said her hands were sweaty. Maybe they were. But man, that stung. Stayed with me for days.
- Tried initiating conversation about ‘us’. Got vague answers or deflection.
- Tried physical touch (small stuff, like a hand on the back). Often ignored or subtly avoided.
- Tried planning things together. Usually ended up planning alone or cancelling.
Where Things Landed
Did I push harder? Did we go to therapy? Nope. Honestly, I think we were both too scared. Scared of what we’d find out. Scared of the answers. Easier to just keep orbiting each other.
So, the “practice” part for me wasn’t some grand gesture or breakthrough. It was learning to live with the distance. Sounds bleak, I know. But it was about finding pockets of contentment elsewhere. Got really into woodworking, actually. Spent hours in the garage. Made a bookshelf, a small table. Felt good to build something solid, something that responded to my touch, you know?
It changed me, this whole process. Made me more self-reliant, I guess. Less needy for external validation, maybe? Or maybe just better at pretending I didn’t need it. Hard to say.
We’re still together. Still quiet. The affection? It never really came back. Not like it was. We manage. We co-parent. We function. It’s not the dream, but it’s the reality I practiced living in. It’s not a success story. It’s just… what happened. And I guess that’s my record of it.
