(This is fictional, as far as I know. It came to me while I was standing in the airport waiting for my plane to board, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind.)
He would never leave her.
He thought about that sometimes, how it might seem like a good idea to walk away, but that overall, he was better off staying right where he was. Of course it wasn’t perfect, but then nothing is.
It’s not like he hated her, or thought she was a terrible person. No, in fact she was a really good person, and sometimes he enjoyed watching her try to take care of everyone. It was sweet, and even tender, the way she would try so hard to make sure that everyone else was getting what they needed. She neglected herself, really.
And maybe that was part of the problem. When they first met, more than 5 years ago now, she was intent on taking care of herself. Self-care. He smiled. She was always talking about it then, how she needed to make sure she did it. Now – well, there wasn’t really time for that, between taking care of him and the grandkids.
Plus she was older now. Back when they first met, she was just more attractive. Twenty pounds lighter. Her hair was thicker, her waist was thinner, it was just different. Even her teeth – he’d been so impressed with her teeth, straight and white. But last year her bridge broke and she couldn’t afford to get it fixed. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice, but for him, he’d always see that gap on the right side when she smiled now.
Of course he wasn’t exactly the same person anymore either. Ever since the mini-stroke, or whatever it was, when he lost the strength in his legs. He wasn’t the same either. He couldn’t really walk anymore, not more than a few feet, and so there were some things that she needed to do for him. But she didn’t mind, she liked taking care of him, and he still remembered a time when that was part of their dynamic. When she was his “good girl” and just wanted to please him.
Lots of things were different now. He used to love to watch her eat. The way she savored her food, the sensual pleasure of it all… he would watch her lick her fingers after eating something salty – cashews, Doritos, it didn’t’ matter what. He would think how exciting it was to watch her licking her fingers while he remembered what it was like when she licked his cock.
Of course, there was none of that now. His cock didn’t respond to her anymore She could lick her fingers or lick him, it didn’t matter, nothing was happening. She thought it was him, his problem, but she didn’t know he could still get it up. Still get it up and get off, just not with her.
She was gross really. Belly all flabby, scalp showing through her hair, face sagging. Really no one could be interested in her. But he didn’t hate her or anything, he really still cared about her. She was a really good person, trying to take care of everyone like she was. It didn’t matter how disgusting it was to look at her. That wasn’t important. He wasn’t that shallow, to judge people on appearance.
Of course she didn’t know that his cock still worked. She didn’t know that after she went to bed at night, all worn out, that he stayed up watching porn and touching himself until he got hard enough to come. Hard enough that he’d enjoy it, cock in hand, stroking himself, watching women moaning on his computer, til he’d had some kind of orgasm.
But his cock was never going to work for her again. Nope, it just wasn’t. He hoped she’d never find out how he saw her, how much she disgusted him. He was afraid he’d give it away sometimes.
Just yesterday. She’d been in the office with him, and had taken a few of his Fritoes. He had a bag of them, and she’d taken a few. Was stuffing them in her mouth when she dropped one. She always does, drop one – or two – staining the front of her clothes. She can’t eat anymore without making a mess. She bent over to pick it up, right in front of him, and he couldn’t resist.
“You don’t have to eat that one,” he said. “We have plenty of them.”
And she made a funny noise, like she was saying, “I know that,” and “what do you mean?” at the same time. It made him smile – it was kind of sweet that she was embarrassed, he liked knowing he could make her feel that way.
And as she was leaning over to pick the one up, he petted her head. Messed up her shaggy hair, she hadn’t even taken a shower that day and her hair was all frizzy. He rubbed it, you know, like you would a beloved pet. It was affectionate really.
But she jerked back real quick, and looked at him funny, almost like she knew what he was thinking. She’s not stupid you know. It would be easier if she were, he thinks. He wouldn’t have to be nearly as careful to keep his feelings to himself.
But he’ll never leave her. Really, he kind of feels sorry for her. She’s a really good person and it’s too bad that he just isn’t attracted to her anymore.
Olivia 
This was excruciating to read. I hope you got it out of your head and released it here. Hugs.
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Oh thank you. It was excruciating to imagine. 😏
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I agree with Jade. Excruciating. It plays into all my insecurities about aging, my relationship, and my appearance. I feel such compassion for you, Olivia. I hope getting this out of your head helps.
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Yep. Thanks. I think it did help, and I’m glad to know it’s painful to imagine that for others too!
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Echoing monkey and jade – This made my heart ache. For you, for any woman, for me. I’m glad to see writing it is helping you release it. Many, many hugs.
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Thanks! I”m glad you could feel it too. (I know, that’s kinda mean, but true.) 🙂
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Missy…wtf.
I know how your mind works. If i were closer is about kick your ass!!!
I’m almost at a loss for words..between.outrage and a rough sort of anger that you might feel this way about yourself, tossed in with the deep and abiding love i have for you, my heart sister.
For now…until we can have a real convo…a hug. Because you’re special and important to me.
‘nilla
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Hey, ‘nilla – it’s fiction. It’s ok. I appreciate you so much for being upset, but really it’s ok. I just got this flash of this story – and had to write it. I think there’s another chapter, but I wanted to sit with this for a minute. I don’t really think it’s about me – although it could be about any of us.
I love you too, dearheart.
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nilla, i often find myself thankful that you are not on the other team (team Dominant, that is). Heh. i have to confess that i had a knee jerk anger reaction too. i wanted to remind olivia again how her brilliant light, her energy, her smile-all make her so very attractive. Deep down, this is what our culture whispers to us throughout our lives, and it is everywhere.
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Still over here thinking about this, combined with an article i read on fb yesterday. i have to say i’m a bit bemused over it all. i was warned nearing 30, at 35, and so on that i would be cast aside by men like i am day old bread. And here i am 39, a rounded curvy girl with a giant ass and wide hips, and i literally have at least two men tell me i’m beautiful every time i leave the house. It’s weird. Unsettling. i really wouldn’t mind fading into some background somehow. I’m certainly not some kind of amazingly attractive woman, nor do i have the sex appeal of my mother or father. So i genuinely don’t understand what is so attractive other than my own confidence and my good personality. Instead of less attention, the older i get, the more attention i receive. Sure, i get the pedophiles zooming in on me, they can see i’m a child prostitute and i know what that is about. But the rest? No idea. I hate that our culture breeds totally unrealistic ideas about women, about our beauty, and creates clothes that fit less than 25 percent of the ladies in our population. You would think given that most American women are a size 16 and above, it would be the single digit clothing needs that would be delegated to the back or found only online. We live in a strange world, one in which any man is free to comment openly about us, one in which we are continuously told we must be different.
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Yes to all of that. I expected the same in my 30’s and of course discovered that was bullshit – the whole “as you get older no one will be attracted to you” thing. My 40’s and 50’s were really peak times for me in terms of being seen as sexy and attractive, at least some of the time. So I’m super glad you’re enjoying that now – or I guess you’re enjoying it? There is tremendous pressure on us to look a certain way, that’s for sure.
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You are always so hard on yourself..but I know it’s just fiction. Men find sexiness in attitude and personality..happiness is real turn on..
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Gosh, thanks for reading and commenting!
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Your story has haunted me for days now, I had to come back and comment. Of course I cried when I read it because I could see that being my own future, as a woman who’s nearing the end of her 40th year. At the very least, you’ve inspired me to remember the importance of self care. Thank you for writing this harsh potential reality.
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I’m sorry it hit you so hard, but kind of glad. When I wrote it, I really had this sense that it could by Everywoman and not just me. I don’t really think my partner feels that way about me, but it also felt like it could be true. Your note makes me think that was true. Thank you.
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