erected between us

first fell in love with husband when we would sit and talk in the living room of my old apartment in front of the (ceiling-to-floor) windows with the long, white curtains, drinking cups of scalding, black coffee. We would just sit and talk-sometimes until sunrise. I was so completely thrilled to have finally found that one special person and our wedding way was the happiest day of my life.

However, it was not long after our honeymoon when my husband climbed into the tomb called "the office" and wrapped his mind in a shroud of paperwork and buried himself in clients, and I said nothing for fear of turning into a nagging wife. It seemed as if overnight an invisible wall had been erected between us.

When our daughter, Desiree was born she quickly became the center of my world. I watched her grow from infant to toddler, and I no longer seemed to care that my husband was getting busier and spending less time at home. Somewhere between his work schedule and our home and young daughter, we were losing touch with each other. That invisible wall was now being cemented by the mortar of indifference.

Desiree went off to preschool and I returned to college to finish my degree, and I tried to find myself in the courses I took; I complained with all the other young women on campus about men who are insensitive. Sometimes late at night I cried and begged the whispering darkness to tell me who I really was, and my husband lay beside snoring like a hibernating bear unaware of my winter.