Fiction – Happily ever after


Watching the clouds hovering towards her, she waited for the dark cloud to envelop her being in its darkness. Dark, Pitch dark. Like the way the recesses of her mind felt. He walked in through the door. The customary smiles, the mindless enquiries, the idle relay of domestic trivia filled the space. A question here and there to express his interest, and then a blaring stop to the conversation.

He flops down on the sofa, marking his territory and watches men and women relay their opinions on the current events of the world.

She watches him enter his comfort zone and parts of her begin to wail. Wail for his attention. A moment of introspection follows and several  questions unanswered adds to her restlessness. Losing him to the 42 incher, she wonders:

If there  was a concept called lethargy taking over a relationship?

How will she stop her innate urge of making him so comfortable? So very comfortable , that he fails to notice her discomfort.

Does being loved come at the cost of being taken for granted?

Did the inertia stem from being together for much too long?

Did their lack of conflict, the being on each others side forever kill the passion they had for each other?

She wonders when was the last time he reached out for her and fails to get her answer.

Still vying for his attention, she walks around wondering if this state of extreme comfort was construed in fairy tales as – happily ever after.

Watching him slouch and block the whole world and most importantly her, out of his cognizance.

She wonders, while staring at him, guffaw and laugh at something on the telly. He is swift to change his moods between programmes, she notes.  Sometimes she wonders if the disinterest he displays is just a phase, but the explanation feels so weak, that it shreds to fragments even before it registers as a thought in her conscience.

She wonders why she finds the calm aura of the place so unsettling. At times, the wait for something to occur, to shake him from his torpidness feels too long.

But before the inner demons make her lose her composure..she snaps out. And like a dutiful wife, she sets on her domestic routine, of fixing him a dinner.  The food she churns out is like her. Uninspired and unappealing.

She waits for some soulful conversation over dinner. More guffaws follow. He remarks, she needs to get more organized running the house, getting healthier dinners in place..and she smirks thinking of all the retorts she could give him .But she knows better than that, unlike elsewhere, a wailing child will never get her milk here. Over time, she has domesticated the wild child within her. And perfected the art of the beguiling smile or the stoic silence.

Through her smile and his apathy, she gets the answer to all her questions. That the deep rooted ennui in their relationship is her own doing, the giving in to his lethargy has taken its toll ..And has now defined her Happily ever after ..


About Thumbelina81
A dreamer lost in this world. Part time Writer, Part time Gardener, A full time wife.

8 Responses to Fiction – Happily ever after

  1. KP says:

    A beautiful portraying of what is happening in most households.The answer to this is not taking it lying down but to take the bull by the horns,throwing tantrums making it impossible to watch or guffaw or comment on dinner.Have a MOU on the Dos and Dont’s for a smooth life sans ennui and boredom.But know your limits!

  2. This is so common a situation these days. You brought out the emotions well.

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  4. Some point or the other, we all go through this phase. 😦

  5. This is the story of every home. I don’t want ti brush it aside like that. Since conjugal bliss depends what the couple feels for each other, they should take into account the emotive need of one another.

  6. My Say says:

    romance vanishes in thin air only love remains as a part of dailies .. such is the enigma of the rat race of the date .. mistakenly we call Life

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  8. sirkrazius says:

    This is such a strange, but yet common situation. There are no fights, no arguments, no violence. But there is trouble in that there is nothing else. It is silt at the bottom of a river, nothing changing. It needs some fire, some passion or this relationship just lingers…
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