30 Days by K Larsen Read Free Book Online

his couch, eyes glued to the TV ignoring me, beer in hand from the time he arrives home until we go to bed. There is no partnership between us, I am responsible entirely, for our household and he gets to live in it.  It’s odd really, six years ago I never would have put up with this kind of behavior. I would have been appalled. I certainly wouldn't have rolled over and just taken the shit he dishes out. I honestly don't know when or why or what it is about him that makes me take it.
     
    If it wasn't for my sister I’d have nothing. She is the only joy left in my life. She loves me no matter what. She is my rock. My confidant. My only family and my best friend. We can have entire conversations without actually speaking. Luckily my husband doesn't seem to care about us spending time together...as long as his dinner’s on the table when he gets home and his lunch for the next day is packed. I spend as much time as possible with her to escape my marriage. She gives me glimpses of the old me back. She makes my soul feel light again.
     
    At thirty, I’m afraid I won't find a better man so I lie and tell myself I’m in love with him. I will die sad and unhappy but married for years and years and he will think he lived a good life, a happy life. It’s unfortunate sure, but I resigned myself to the truth of the situation a long time ago. I know at some point his rage won't stop at inanimate objects, that it will turn towards me but what can I do really?
     
    Our fifth wedding anniversary is coming up this month and I dread the plans he’s made. I will be expected to look nice, smile and exude happiness during whatever we do. This could be simply a night out or an entire weekend away. If my skirt is too short or I look too nice he will make a comment and I’ll have to change. If I don't want to put out he will try extra hard at foreplay after I say no repeatedly, which actually turns me off and dries me out even more than if he skips it all together. If I want to relax and do something I enjoy, like swim or read, it will become an issue of me ignoring and neglecting him. I can't win with him so I just don't try anymore. I wait for him to instruct me and follow orders hoping that it doesn't result in screaming or a mess.
     
    Fuck off.
    I can see your cooter in that skirt.
    Do something with me.
    Get a fuckin job.
    Why isn't the house clean?
    Stop spending my money.
    Why are you such a bitch?
    Why can't you cook?
    You’re being cunty.
    You’re getting fat. Again.
    Why can’t you do anything right?
    That shirt barely covers your tits, slut.
    Those shoes make you look trashy.
    I threw up last night when I got in ...clean it up.
    You’re disgust me.
    You’re worthless.
     
    He treats me as if I’m simply a piece of trash that can be discarded at any time. There is no silver lining in life. He’s a one upper...if you had a bad day his was worse. If you’re sick, he’s sicker. I’ve never seen the man give change to a homeless person, hold a door open, or give up his seat for someone. He’s never done anything that normal people just do because it’s what people do. There is no kindness. You’d think that by now I’d be hooked on booze and pills or some shit like that but, surprisingly I’m too resilient for all that. I still have hope. Things will get better... they have too right? I mean it’s not a crime to hope that your husband will change. It might be completely stupid and naive but it’s not a crime. What if I leave him and then he gets it and changes. I’d be alone and he’d be cured and move on with some young thing and treat her like gold.
     
    When he drinks heavily, it’s a different story. I contemplate leaving without a damned thing but the clothes on my back. He’s extra nasty when he drinks and extra horny. I hate the way he smells and the permanent sneer that resides on his face as long as there’s a beer in his hand. He makes lewd jokes that he thinks are hilarious but are offensive. He