12/04/2017-13/04/2017

I’ve been rather bored as of late.

The house is quiet when Sally Mae or Mrs. Williams isn’t here. I’ve taken to switching on the television and letting whatever is on play. Anything to curb the silence. Sally Mae says there’s a show that she likes, and it comes on at 7, Monday to Friday . I started watching it halfway, and I am slightly confused on who's who and what who is doing. Regardless, she explained as best as she can while sorting dinner out. When I was younger, I know I would have lost interest in it. It’s the kind of story that you engage in if you require something non-complex to chew on. Junk food for the eyes and mind, I suppose. But now, I think I quite like it. It’s dramatic, over the top, comically bad villains and comically good heroes. I suppose–with the exception of the sheer amount of storylines and characters–I enjoy the simplicity of it all. Nothing is ambiguous in the world of that telenovela.

I asked Sally Mae if Peach would watch these shows with her when he was home. When he was sick. She shook her head. He never seemed to have an interest. Instead, he was always reading scientific journals when he had the energy to come downstairs and relax in the sitting room. He barely had the energy for much at all, most times. This, she told me. I had not been physically present enough to see it as much as I would have liked, but it couldn’t be helped. Work called.

After dinner, I sat and watched more telenovelas, and I found my mind wandering.

I think that I feel guilty.

In these last five years, I have had to dedicate all my energy to my work. To building Anatole to the heights that it reaches today. I understood it to be a necessary sacrifice for future enjoyment, at the time at least. Anatole will be selling for much more than I expected, and the money Anna and I will receive for it will be more than enough to live comfortably without the need to work. Not to mention the stocks we still have in it. Now, Peach and I can live in comfort without having to worry about financial problems.

But was I a good spouse in those years?

I look back, and perhaps I was not. Was I as present as I could be? What was I doing when I was home? Did I spend quality time with him? I think I tried. But did I? He asked for a husband, because I had become a caretaker. I suppose that’s most of what I was doing when I came back from work. Checking his medicines, arranging his meal plan, making sure he had no fevers, oxygen levels alright, pain meds, doctors, treatment plans. And then I jet off to a conference 5 states away for work. Rinse, repeat. I was perturbed. So much so that I tried to remember just how many things I did that could be considered quality time.

I think I tried to make a home cooked meal for a romantic dinner. I burned the food, of course, because I cannot cook to save my life, so we ordered take out. I think that was good.

There were many times we watched movies at home together, and many embarrassing times I fell asleep because of how tired I was. I should have tried harder to stay awake.

I think I did the massages well, though. Peach’s body gets stiff from having to lay down so often. I think he liked those.

Gifts. On that, I know that I did well. Every time I was out and about, I couldn’t help spotting something that I thought he would like. I think Peach liked them , those gifts. Did he really?

Taking baths together, washing his hair as often as I could. The odd nap with him here and there.

Did I put enough effort into this marriage? Did I do as much as I could? Surely, that can be the only reason for this unusual distance I have felt from Peach once he returned to work. Or, Edwynn, he could simply be excited to get back to his work. He is a passionate man. He and I differ in that regard. I will do whatever work I must to sustain my household. He MUST do the work that fulfills him. After many years of being bed-bound, having no way to exercise his brilliance the way he would like, it is natural that he would be so absorbed in his work.
But he does not tell me about it much anymore.

It could be a matter of practicality. After all, he has told me that science moves slow. Perhaps there was nothing TO tell. It’s only been a few weeks after all.

I think I am overthinking things. I think I am needlessly worrying about nothing.

I honestly do not know why I harbor guilt over the last five years. I do not. I can only think that it is because I did not do the best that I could have.

Well, that’s that. There is not much I can do in that regard. I can only try to spend more time with him now that it is possible. Somewhat possible, with his work schedule. I will try.

13/04/2017

He called and told me that he will not be home tonight. 

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