Monday, July 13, 2015

Tossed and Turned

                “I can’t sleep,” said Harry.

                The room stayed silent as Harry stared up at the ceiling fan. The darkness was only broken by the occasional passing headlight reflecting off the storefront windows across the street.

                “Why not? What’s wrong,” asked Margaret in a snoozy haze.
                “I don’t want to tell you,” said Harry.

                Margaret opened her eyes and turned over on her pillow to face Harry.

                “Don’t want to tell me? What’s that mean,” asked Margaret.
                “I think you’ll get mad,” said Harry.

                Margaret turned all the way over in bed and put her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

                “You can tell me anything Harry, you know that. No matter what, you can tell me,” said Margaret.

                Harry took a deep breath. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He found he couldn’t make a sound. He didn’t know how to tell her that he knew that she didn’t love him anymore. He found her e-mail to her mother in which Margaret expressed how trapped she felt by Harry and how she wanted something more out of life than he could give her, even though he’d done his best to try and make her happy. He didn’t know how to tell her that he understood how she felt and that maybe, with her falling out of love with him. He may have fallen out of love with her, but he wasn’t sure.

                “I don’t know what to say,” said Harry, “I don’t… I just have a lot swirling around in my mind I guess,” said Harry.
                “Why would that make me mad,” asked Margaret.
                “I didn’t mean mad, just, I didn’t want to bother you with what’s going on in my head,” said Harry.

                Margaret sat up on her elbows and considered Harry for a moment. He was on his back, hands folded on his chest. He looked fatter than she remembered. “When did he get so fat,” she would wonder.

                “Well, you did wake me up so now you have to tell me what’s bothering you or I will get mad,” said Margaret.

                The room was silent again as Harry held his breath. Margaret continued to stare at him through the darkness. A car drove by blaring bad, tasteless music too loud.

                “It’s a wonder anyone can sleep with all that racket outside,” said Harry.
                “Right,” said Margaret. 

                She lay back down and turned away from Harry. 

                “I know that things haven’t been great between us lately. I know that you feel a little underappreciated and maybe a little put upon while I’ve been trying to get myself back together. I know it’s been hard on you and I want you to know that I am sorry,” blurted Harry. 

                Margaret stayed still on her side of the bed. The same side she’d had for nine years without any variation. Her eyes were open, staring at the darkly lit water glass she kept on the nightstand.

                “I just want you to know that I do appreciate all the things you do for me, and for us. I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. I may not always say it, but I do really appreciate all that you do,” continued Harry, “I’m just getting back to normal and I hope you can bear with me for a while longer.”

                Margaret rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling fan.

                “Now I can’t sleep,” said Margaret.  

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