Charlene and I had been married for the past eight
years. We got engaged right out of college, I got a
job, we promised each other that we’d wait to have
children until our income could make ends meet. That
was eight years ago.
We live together in a north-side condo. I work as a
marketing coordinator and she is in advertising for a
for a local fashion designer. That’s how she met John.
John was the junior art designer, hired on temporarily
to assist with a advertising campaign. My wife and him
got close and remained friends even when he changed
jobs to work with a major retailer. I know you’re
thinking I should’ve been jealous, but I met this guy
and he’s as gay as Liberace.
He took my place for all the activities I hated to do
with my wife- shopping, jogging, walking the Rocky, going
to plays, etc. I didn’t mind them becoming best of
friends, on the contrary, I considered it a blessing.
Our love life left much to be desired and the times
that previously were spent wrestling around the
bedroom, were now spent finishing up that recent
project from work, reading a book, or getting a much
appreciated nap. After marriage we were on fire. After
three years were still smoldering. Now there’s barely a
glowing ember. Sex has become a monthly chore for her
and I’ve been disenchanted from the frustration and
disappointment. Sex at a monthly interval always leads
to horrible performances. Neither of us minded, we just
adapted and channeled our energies into our careers.