"YUL"

Lies

"I love you."

I utter to you these three words every day. Your answer to me is always the same.

"Okay."

There was once a time when I was able to say these words and you would always respond with a passionate "I love you too." We got married and everything changed. I guess time does make people weary. You work every day while I wait patiently at home. My job as your wife became just that. A sitting duck who, at first, was oblivious to what you were doing behind my back.

As of a year ago, you began to work even later. You'd return home only a few minutes before the sun would come up. As you enter the bedroom we share, I hear slight curses coming from you in whispers. Small chants like, "I hope she's still asleep." or "Did I wake her up? Sh*t, I hope not." On some days the sun would come up only to remind me that you didn't sleep at home at all. Where were you sleeping at? What was it, or more like who was it, that caused you to be home so late? Your answer "At work." In the beginning I believed you, but as time continued on-I began to realize that you lie. You lie to cover something up. Though I had a pretty good suspicion of what you were covering up, my heart just didn't want to succumb to the truth. You get defensive when I question the validity of your answer. You begin to say things like

"Gosh Fany-ah, what else do you want me to tell you!? I've been working! How many times do you want me to repeat that!?".

I would retaliate because my patience was also wearing thin, "What are you working on that causes you to always come home so late Yuri!?".

Your face would contort into an angry expression and then you would mutter, "I'm working, that's all you need to know."

In a low whisper, I let out what my mind has been thinking of for a while now.

"Liar."

Of course you don't hear this or at least you choose not to.

I make the effort to try and initiate some intimacy. I mean it is only normal to want to have the person you love in your arms. A feeling I have been missing for quite some time. When I try to kiss you anywhere on your body or when I try to climb on your lap and seduce you. You always push me away and mutter "Not now." or "I'm tired Fany-ah." Even a simple hug from me makes your whole body stiff.

We were at a dinner party hosted by your parents. The guests, including your parents, began to ask us questions about our marriage.

"How's married life treating you so far Yuri?" A man, who apparently was your uncle, would ask.

Then your mother would ask an uncomfortable question, "When are you guys planning to have kids?" Something we both don't know the answer to. Instead of looking to me for support, you would turn to the glass of champagne on the table and drink it down. One became two and two soon became five. It looked as if you have never sipped on a glass of champagne before. I guess you really hate the thought of having children with me.

"Haha, you kids probably still haven't left the honeymoon phase, huh?" Your father would say with prideful eyes. If only he knew the truth. How very wrong he was. From then on the champagne was no longer sufficient and hard liquor seemed more enticing to you.

By the time we had to leave, I was practically dragging you to the passenger seat of our car. You'd mumble incoherent things on the way home. As I was taking you to lay you down on our bed, that's when you apparently sobered up. You took hold of my waist and spun me around. You pressed your lips against mine. The taste coming from them was disgusting. A strong liquor taste that you had concocted with the many drinks you consumed at the dinner party. Tears were forming in my eyes as you lay me down on our bed. Your kisses soon trailing every part of my body. I began to cry at the realization that hit me. You are only willing to touch me when you are drunk. Can you not stand to touch me when you are sober?