Heal Me

6

The afternoon light streamed through my kitchen window, illuminating the toys scattered across the floor. I leaned against the counter, sipping my lukewarm coffee, when my phone rang. It was Amy. My heart raced with anticipation. I answered, grinning as her face filled the screen.
"Hey! What's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual even though I was dying to hear what she had to say.
"Ellie! You won't believe this!" Amy's voice was bursting with excitement, her eyes sparkling. "Daniel proposed!"
My heart leapt in my chest, and I couldn't help but beam at her. "Oh my God! That's amazing, Amy! I'm so happy for you!"
Her laughter filled the room, a bright sound that felt like sunshine on a cloudy day. "I can't believe it either! We were walking by that little park where we had our first date, and he just stopped and got down on one knee. It was so romantic!"
As she recounted the details of the proposal, I was happy for her, but that happiness was swiftly tainted by a pang of jealousy. Daniel was everything Ethan was not—attentive, caring, full of life. I swallowed hard, pushing the discomfort aside. "That's incredible, Amy. You deserve it. You both deserve to be happy."
"I know! We're already talking about dates and venues. I can't wait to plan everything," she said, her voice bubbling over with excitement.
I nodded along, forcing a smile. "You're going to be the most beautiful bride," I assured her. Beneath my enthusiasm lay a bittersweet heaviness. My marriage to Ethan felt more like a chain than a partnership, and the contrast between our lives was stark. Amy was stepping into a future filled with hope and love, I was stuck in a suffocating routine that drained the color from my world.
"So, how's everything with you?" Amy asked, her expression shifting slightly as she sensed the change in my tone.
"Uh, you know, same old," I replied, trying to brush it off. "Maddy's been keeping me busy, and Ethan's working a lot. It's just... life, I guess."
"Ellie..." Amy's voice softened, concern threading through her words. "You don't sound okay. Is everything really fine?"
"I know, I just..." My voice trailed off, and I sighed, frustration bubbling within me. "I don't want to ruin your moment with my problems."
"Don't be ridiculous," she replied firmly. "You're my best friend."
Her offer hung in the air, a lifeline thrown in the midst of my chaos. I felt a flicker of hope mixed with envy. "I just wish things could be different for me," I confessed, my voice shaking. "I want to feel what you're feeling—excited, loved, like my life has purpose."
Amy's expression softened, and I could see the empathy in her eyes. "You will, Ellie. You deserve that. Just don't give up on yourself, okay?"
I nodded, feeling the tears prick at my eyes. "I'll try, Amy. I promise."
As we chatted more about her plans and dreams, I couldn't shake the swirling emotions within me. I was genuinely thrilled for her, yet the shadows of my own reality loomed large. When we ended the call, I sat in silence, staring out the window. Maddy giggled in the background, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in my heart. I wanted to give her the world, but how could I do that when I felt so lost myself?
When Ethan came home that evening, the tension in the air was palpable, as always. He dropped his bag by the door, and I could tell he was already gearing up for a long evening of retreating into himself.
"Hey! Guess what?" I called out, my voice bright with enthusiasm.
He barely glanced my way, his brow furrowed as he rummaged through the fridge. "What?"
"Amy called—she and Daniel are engaged!" I could feel my smile stretching across my face, hoping he'd share in my excitement.
Ethan turned, finally looking at me, but the spark of interest I craved was absent. "That's nice," he said flatly, turning back to the fridge as if I'd just told him the weather.
"Nice? It's amazing! Can you believe it?" I pressed, trying to inject some life into his monotone response.
He closed the fridge door and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest. "What do you want me to say?" His tone was clipped, and I felt the excitement drain from my voice.
"I just thought you'd want to celebrate. They're getting married!" I tried to keep my voice light, but I could feel frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
"Can we not do this right now?" His impatience was palpable, as if the mere mention of Amy and Daniel was an inconvenience.
I blinked, taken aback. "I just wanted to share something happy with you. Is that too much to ask?"
Ethan shrugged, his expression hardening. "You're making a big deal out of nothing. It's their relationship, not ours."
The coldness in his voice felt like ice water splashing against my skin. "I know we have our issues, but that doesn't mean I can't be excited for my friends. I thought you'd want to celebrate with me, not shut me down."
"I'm not shutting you down," he snapped, frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm just saying that we can't all be happy-go-lucky about everything."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to argue, to fight back against his dismissive attitude, but instead, I felt a wave of defeat wash over me. "Fine," I said, my voice quieting. "I just thought you'd care."
"I do care," he replied, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But right now, I'm tired, and I really don't want to talk about other people's lives."
I turned away, feeling the sting of disappointment in my chest. It was clear that sharing my joy, my hopes, even the tiniest glimmer of happiness was a burden to him. As I retreated to the living room, I could feel the walls of our home closing in on me once more, a reminder that I was trapped in a marriage that felt increasingly loveless. I sat on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to suppress the rising tide of sadness. I wanted to be happy for Amy and Daniel, to let their joy fuel my own, but Ethan's indifference made that nearly impossible.
I sank deeper into the couch, and I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the messages between Amy and me about wedding venues and floral arrangements. Her enthusiasm echoed in my mind, a stark contrast to the silence that now filled our home. I glanced over at Ethan, who had settled onto the recliner with a beer, flipping through channels with a detached expression. I could feel the familiar knot of frustration tightening in my stomach. He seemed so far away, trapped in a world where I no longer belonged.
"Hey," I said, trying to muster some excitement. "I was thinking we could go to the wedding together."
Ethan barely looked up, his brow furrowed as he focused on the TV. "What?"
"Ethan," I pressed, desperate for some sign of interest. "It could be fun, a chance for us to get out together."
He turned his gaze to me, eyes narrowing with irritation. "You're asking if I want to go to a wedding? Really?"
"It's not just a wedding, Ethan. It's a celebration of their love. I thought you might want to share in that," I said, frustration bubbling up.
"I've got other things to focus on right now," he snapped, his voice cold.
I felt my heart sink. "You could take a vacation. It's important to me, and it's important to them. Don't you want to support your friends?"
He scoffed, shaking his head. "Support? You think I'm just going to drop everything for a wedding?"
"Why are you being like this?" I shot back, the desperation in my voice growing. "This is a chance for us to reconnect. Don't you see that?"
He stepped closer, his face inches from mine, anger radiating off him. "You don't get it, do you? You're so wrapped up in your little world that you don't see how hard this is for me."
I blinked at his words, hurt flashing through me. "Ethan, I'm not asking you to play happy family. I just want you to be there for me, for us."
"You're making this all about you again," he retorted, his voice rising. "What about my deployment? What about the fact that I'm leaving soon?"
"Of course I care about you leaving! But can't we enjoy this moment together before you go? It's a chance for us to reconnect," I pleaded.
He clenched his jaw, and I saw a glimmer of vulnerability. A tear slipped down his cheek, and my heart twisted. "You care more about a fucking wedding than my deployment. It's like you don't even realize how hard this is for me."
I felt a pang of guilt wash over me, but I clung to my frustration. "I do care! But I can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not. I just want some support, Ethan. Can't you give me that?"
He turned abruptly, his expression darkening, and I could see the hurt etched across his face. "You know what? It's clear you don't need me at all! Everything I sacrificed for you—this life, this marriage—was for nothing!" His voice rose, sharp and raw.
My heart sank. "Ethan, please—"
He cut me off, anger boiling over. "You'll never love me the way I love you! You're still holding on to the ghost of Trevor, and I can't compete with that!"
The words hit me like a punch. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. His accusation felt like a knife twisting in my gut, exposing all my fears and insecurities.
"Maybe I should just leave," he said, his tone bitter as he moved toward the door, yanking on his shoes with a ferocity that sent a tremor of fear through me. "You'll be just fine without me."
"Ethan, don't!" I shouted, desperation creeping into my voice, but it was too late. He was already standing by the door, looking back at me with a mixture of heartbreak and anger that I had never seen before.
"Maybe you think you can be happy without me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But deep down, you know it's not true."
As he walked out, the finality of it shattered the air around me. I stood there, frozen, the weight of his words crashing down on me. I had hoped for understanding, for connection, but instead, all I felt was the stark reality of our growing divide. I was left in the heavy silence, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I had to find a way to reclaim my own happiness, even if it meant standing alone in the shadows of his indifference.