Intimate Chasm - husband's point of view - monologue from a troubled marriage.

This continues from the earlier installment of Intimate Chasm. The husband and wife's communication continues to deteriorates over time. This is the man's point of view. The woman's point of view was posted last week with the same cover art/picture.

I can't face her. I can't talk to her. I just can't.

I need my space. She can't take a hint and that rides me like a bucking bronco.

If only I could say, "Don't worry, honey, you won't lose me. Not yet." But I can't because she would ask questions. Ones that I refuse to answer right now.

My future was uncertain. At least in the beginning. Now I know the truth. If I hadn't had a desk job I would no longer be working. Getting out of bed is a real struggle some days. My wife can be annoying with the looks of pity she tosses my way every night after work. She knows I am depressed. I know it, too. That's why I can't tell her what the doctor said.

Do I feel guilty? You bet I do. It burns in my stomach like acid. It makes my heart sick like heartburn. I makes my mind crazy, swirling with a million thoughts.

I don’t want to hear, "I told you so," so I don't tell her a thing. She already thinks I don't love her, but if I didn't truly love her then I wouldn't have divorced my first wife to marry her.

I knew my first wife had emotionally strayed because she got tired of my moods. I got tired of the emotional roller coaster and strayed too. And then my ex-wife died in that freak accident. I think in some ways I will always grieve losing her the way that I did.

At least my current wife accepts my moods, or she has gotten used to them. I know I can still melt her with a kiss. So she lets me eat alone. She lets me watch TV for hours and I appreciate that.

When it's quiet in the house, that's when the depression hits me hardest. I have to think and the voices in my head are telling me a lot of things I don't want to hear.

One of the most prominate thoughts are, "Tell her you love her. Tell her every day." And I do. But not face to face. If I looked her in the eyes when I told her, then she would know.

I harbored a secret. She would ask and nag and pester me hoping it would loosen my lips. But that only shuts me down. I don't want her to know. Not until there is no turning back.

There are days when I wished I could go back in time and be the amazing lover that won her heart, but my body can't do that anymore. I am fortunate if I can get it up once a week. Usually when that happens it's early morning when she is sleeping, or when I am in the shower.

The other day she put her hands on me and she knew my body was good to go. I wanted to, but my back pain was too intense for sex, so even if I tried I would lose it, which would lead to disappointment. So I said the worst thing a man could say to his wife, "If you want it so badly, why don't you get it somewhere else."

She left the room sobbing. I know she thinks I don't want her but I do. It's the pain in my lower back that is the offender here. When I heard I had an inoperable tumor near my lower spine and that any day now I would no longer be able to walk, I hatched a plan.

Instead of taking the heavy-duty pain meds, I sucked it up and acted like I wasn't hurting. If it got bad, I would take a few, but most days I would force myself to suffer. Once I had two months of narcotics in a secret hiding place, I put that and a full bottle of water on my night stand.

The day I can't get up is the day I take them all. I don't want my wife to suspect anything. If she found out, she would have me committed for being a danger to myself. I can't allow her to find out. She will try to fix it and from what the specialists told me, this couldn't be fixed.

So rather than being confined to a bed and having her wipe my backside for me when my legs stopped working, I would do the loving things and slip from this world. She would have my life insurance and I would be free from the pain.

Do I love her? Absolutely. That's why I don't want her to suffer with a crippled husband, especially since the cancer will eventually kill me. I'm just glad that I pay the bills and manage the checkbook, or she would ask me why I started taking narcotics.

Today I wrote her a note and hid it in my nightstand with my prescriptions. It will explain everything. She'll be mad at first, but if she put herself in my shoes, she'd understand. My note says this…

Love of my life,

I know I wasn't a good husband to you, but I just couldn't bear to see the look on your face when I told you I was dying. I know you are terrified of abandonment, but this was inevitable. At least you will finally understand why I kept my distance and continued to withdraw my heart. If I let myself love you like I did at first, then I could never do what I must do. I will not let you watch me shrivel up and die. That said, please know that I never stopped loving you. I just dreaded leaving you. But since I knew for sure that I would die, sparing you the pain of losing a man you felt close to became my priority. Better for you to be angry with me so when you find my corpse you won't feel as much pain as I do right now.

Your loving husband forever xxoo.