Attending Her Needs

It never quite occurred to me, this silence in our house, but now for more than two weeks, she’s been quieter than a mouse. And in our fifteen years of marriage there has never been this bliss, I thought we must be getting on - but there’s points I seem to miss. It was at the dinner table when the nightly news was on, her silence it was broken, she asked, ‘where our love had gone?’ I nearly choked upon me beer; has our love diminished? I said “oh fair go Love, let’s wait until the news is finished”. What did I say wrong? What sent her storming from the room? Ah, she’ll get over it, once she gets back off her ‘broom’. But here I am with collar on and hauled in with a lead, to face a marriage councillor with a non-existent need. The wife and I sat side by side to face this fellow in his chair, and I was still confused about the reason why we’re there. I copped the leading question; he asked me why we’d come along? I shrugged me shoulders, shook me head, and said that nothings’ wrong. But when he turned and faced my wife she had too much to say, for she brought up every problem that we’d had along the way. Our fifteen years of history was tormenting to a large degree, she poured out a painful tirade with finger pointing all at me. She went on and on about neglect, emptiness and un-met needs, loneliness and so unloved, plus a host of selfish deeds. She whined about my hurtful comments that are derogatory, of socialising with me mates when I know that she needs me. Talk about embarrassment! I didn’t know quite where to look, the therapist would see my wife as nothing but a sook, but he got up and walked around, and stood there face to face, with my wife and in his arms - he gave her a tight embrace. Then he kissed her with a passion and I’m sure I heard her moan. Thank God I never left the pair of them in this room here alone, because on the face of my dear wife, there’s this erotic daze, at least she bloody shut up when she would have whined for days. The therapist then turned to me and with a strong voice chose to speak, “This is what your dear wife needs, at least three times a week”. I mulled the situation over, then compromised the fellows wishing, “Mondays and Wednesdays I’ll drop her off, but Fridays I go fishing”.