#Wattys2017 - A Glimpse of Freedom

Chapter Two - Jenny Straussberg

 I wake up a little later than usual today. I find myself in a panic, rushing to get to work. Jenny was already out of bed, most likely making herself a cup of tea. I walk into the kitchen in an obvious rush before being stopped by Jenny. "Don't you have time for a cup of coffee and a chat, dear?" she asks with a warm smile.

"Not today," I respond, "I'm going to be late." I can feel she's not very happy with my answer, but she smiles anyways.

"Alright Marv," she smiles. "I'll be here when you get back."

I give her a kiss on the forehead and she hands me a thermos full of tea she'd apparently packed beforehand. She also prepared me a lunch. I decide that a kiss on the forehead isn't enough and pick her up just like I did at our wedding and give her a smooch. She seemed happy now, so I was happy. Maybe I'll survive at work today? Who knows, all I know now is that I'm too old to be picking up Jenny or just about everything else.

Jenny and I never had children. We tried, multiple times, doing whatever we could just for a chance at having a child. We wasted so much money only for recurring disappointment. Jenny was infertile, and the whole situation seemed to have a devastating effect on her. Sometimes I wonder if she really isn't happy, if she wants to leave just like me. Maybe she thinks that if she's going on a trip, I won't be there for her after, that I would have abandoned her for another woman. I would never do that, and I swear to God that I would never. I want Jenny to be as happy as I am with her.

After we discovered that Jenny was infertile, she slipped into a state of depression. The pills seemed to work, she seemed a lot happier. I noticed, however, that she was beginning to become dependant on alcohol. Very much so, to the point that she would come home after a night at the pub in a cab piss drunk at two in the morning. I couldn't help her on my own, and that's not because I didn't want to, it was because she wouldn't let me. She did not want me to see her in that state at all; not while she is drunk, not while she is recovering. She insisted she would do it herself, but she never did. I finally told her that it was time to get up and do this together, and she agreed. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks she owes me anything, not just because I helped her but because she feels like I'm not happy with her. I wonder if she thinks that I am not enough for her. I wonder if she would be happier with someone else.

Jenny did not want to adopt. She told me that one look at the child and she'll be reminded of the failures that took place that led up to adoption, and she knew it would be just as heartbreaking to her as it would be to the child to reveal the truth of adoption. She just couldn't do it, and as much as I thought a child might help her, I think I secretly knew that pushing her further might just hurt her more.

I often catch Jenny in the middle of reminiscing. Whenever I ask what she's been daydreaming about, she always answers with the same question, "Just about dinner!" and I know it isn't true. Her eyes, they always tell a different story. If she could tell me the truth, I already know she would be able to breath again. She won't let me know, she doesn't want me to worry about her. I keep telling her the more that she holds off talking about her problems, the worse it will get for her and the more I will worry, however she just doesn't seem to be having it. I want her to be able to shake away the past and be completely happy, rather than just faking it.

Jenny had a good childhood. She grew up in a good neighbourhood, went to a good school, had lots of friends and had humble and hardworking parents. I know that all these traits were passed to her. I met her in university, she told me she wanted to be a nurse. She became a nurse but after learning about being infertile, she couldn't bear to go near a hospital. She no longer works.

I don't want to pressure her back into working, but I feel like if she goes back to work somewhere it might help her cope with her alcoholism. I know she still has urges and it's hard to keep her under control. It came to the point where I had to dump her alcohol cans and wash the alcohol away with a hose while she screamed for me to stop. It hurt me just as much as it hurt her, and it seemed to have taught her to hide her alcohol rather than leaving it for me to see. I sometimes find cans from weeks prior stashed away inside a box in the basement, and when I see it I realize that my efforts aren't working. I'm not good enough to help her cope. I can't help but to expect more from her.

I know I should be happy with my life. I have a job, a home, a loving wife, money and a simple routine to follow daily. I just can't shake off the feeling that there's more to life, however, and it haunts me. I just want to go and live life to it's fullest instead of waiting for everything to come to me. Jenny doesn't want it because she's already had enough disappointment in her life, she's afraid of another one. I just hope that one day, I can finally help her take this load off her shoulders so she can walk freely once more.

Arriving home after work, I couldn't wait to be with Jenny. I spent the entire day thinking about her, how hard her life has been, how I want to be able to take care of her properly. We talk, like usual, but nothing notable happens. I'll ask her one day, and when I do, I know both of us will be happier.