Is a Dream Just a Dream?

Another Brick in the Wall

There should be a law against trash T.V. it's the kind of popcorn entertainment that rots people's minds and destroys the perception of reality in the easily influenced. It's the kind of B.S. that Kristen loves to watch, it makes her feel superior. I've informed her on more than one occasion that she's not as far removed from the idiots on the "Real Housewives" as she likes to pretend. She glared at me and I went to my studio to watch the basketball game.

Today, however, I'm at the mercy of her desire to watch this crap. It's the third episode of the night and I've decided I've had my fair share of this nonsense. I strain to reach the remote at my side. As if sensing my desire to foil her marathon of mediocrity she snatches it from me and puts it far out of reach. Bitch. Where's the nurse with my fucking morphine?

"When Stevie comes you can watch whatever it is you two watch together during your little sleepovers"

She's so damn petty.

"It's one thing for you to fuck her behind my back, but don't throw your infidelity in my face." Infidelity? That would mean I was loyal to her in the first place. As far as I'm concerned our "marriage" is a sham. No sex, no intimacy, no communication, nothing in common, and no respect.

"It's really sad how much you sniff after her you know. I'd say I was jealous but I'm honestly amused with how frequently she sends you packing the second the two of you finish fucking" she's playing games again and I'm not in the mood. Does this make her a sadist? I can't argue with her I can't walk away I'm basically being held hostage by a conversation. "So much for the great love of your life. She can barely stomach you". She knows fuck all about us.

I'm too weak to sit up so I turn toward her "S-shu-shu-u-up" scowling she turns the volume up drowning me out with sounds of two grown women arguing over a chair. Hate is a strong word I don't hate Kristen. But if there's a step just below that I'm there. She stopped sleeping with me seven years ago, no explanation, no conversation, she just stopped. Whenever I try to bring it up I get a lot of guilt tripping about Stevie and I, which I feel I would deserve had Kristen not agreed that she came first eighteen years ago. She loves to play the victim about Stevie's position in my life. It's one of her favorite games.

The third episode ends and she switches the channel over to the food network, she's got a wicked smile on her face as the chef starts grilling steaks with some kind of Santa Fe inspired spices. "I haven't had a steak in a few weeks. Maybe I should take the boys to Santino's." that's my favorite steakhouse downtown. I have my own table, the waiters all know what to bring me without asking down to my standard beer. Blue Moon with a slice of orange.

I flex my fingers weakly against the Afghan Stevie made for me. My eyes close as Kristen stands up her arms crossed as she walks around my bed her bag in hand "I'm going to Aspen on Friday, the boys are staying home" Alone? Granted they're not little anymore, but the thought of Bryce without some kind of supervision makes me nervous beyond description. "W-hhhy? A-s-pppen?" fixing her hair in the mirror she rolls her eyes at me "Because I have a competition that's why".

Of course her damn horse shows. I've never understood that hobby, horses are great and I know how to ride. Correction KNEW how to ride, but beyond taking them through the valley on a nice evening or running on the beach I have no desire to jump hurdles and teach them how to do pointless high stepping while my jerk off friends stand around in bondage gear clapping for me. It's just an exercise in narcissism in my view...end internal rant.

"I think you should take the time to figure out what your priorities are while I'm away." Now what is she on about? It's become pretty apparent to me what my priorities actually are. My boys, my health, Stevie, and getting a divorce. In no particular order, though the last two are on the top of my list at the moment. Screwing up my courage I turn to her again "W-wa-ntt di-di-voorce!". Fuck, my own voice is painful to my ears. But she understands every word I'm saying, it may be stilted and poorly formed but it's clear.