This is not my husband. Perhaps he is an imposter with the same face and build, or maybe an unknown twin.
He cannot be my husband because there is a slight flaw in his behavior. My husband does not show love for me, not in private as this man does. My husband is repulsed by the idea of intimacy. At first, I understood and accepted that I would not receive the love every young girl dreams of, but then I caught him being intimate with another.
When our eyes met, he silently communicated his disdain. In that moment, I knew he was only repulsed by the idea of being intimate with me. I thought it might be something about me, but everywhere I go, people of all genders and backgrounds turn their heads in my direction. It wasn't a matter of appearance or attitude. I could be coy, seductive, and employ every trick to claim him, yet he grew more repulsed despite my efforts.
Maybe it was because I was better-at most things. A not so secret fact he dreaded, I feared, and the whole world secretly scrutinized. Despite such feelings, in public, he would display his undying love for me, willing to lay down his life if a crowd was watching but behind closed doors, he would leave me in an instant.
It was the small things that signaled the change. The way my husband shifted uncomfortably whenever I received praise, or the eye roll of dismissal when I excitedly shared a new discovery.
Perhaps it was my poor judgment that led me to marry a man who secretly resented me. Love is blind, and my love for him made me oblivious to it all.
I could leave, or cheat, and find someone better but he is the man to whom I have given my whole heart. Despite his lack of love now, he once loved me and despite his change of heart, I still love him.
No matter how much disdain he shows, I remain a loyal wife. I would not betray him out of a petty desire for fleeting passion. To betray him would be to betray myself.
Divorce was the last thought on my mind because I had hope...hope that somewhere within him, he still loved me. Hope that he would change and love me again.
But not this man. This stranger does not follow my husband's philosophy. He cares, he listens, he watches, and most importantly, he admires... He admires me. His gaze is filled with awe and adoration, as if seeing the stars for the first time, as if discovering and experiencing love anew.
He loves me, I feel it-a feeling I had forgotten with my actual husband.
This is not my husband, but who am I to complain? I am being treated right, aren't I?
Yet, as days turned into weeks, a disquiet began to grow within me. The more this stranger showed his affection, the more I was reminded of the void left by my real husband. The comfort I found in his touch was a stark contrast to the coldness I had grown accustomed to. I began to question everything.
Who was this man, really? Why was he here, taking on a role that did not belong to him? The answers were elusive, hidden behind his tender eyes and warm smile. Despite his kindness, an unease gnawed at me, whispering that something was terribly wrong.