I lie beside him in bed each night, deprived of sleep by his heavy, relentless snores. Every morning, I help him get out of bed with painstaking effort. I guide his slow, shuffling movements as he makes his way to the bathroom. I make him breakfast and I serve it to him with a sculpted smile and painted eyes. As he whispers to me in a deep, rough voice that is cracked with the strain of too many years, I help to guide his shaky hand- loosely grasping at a fork- towards his gaping mouth of cracked lips that grow wet with saliva in the corners. With gentle intention and a heavy heart, I tilt his head back and administer his eyedrops, gritting my teeth as my hands grasp his. When he leans in, I turn my face so that his blind kiss of moist, wrinkled lips lands on my cheek instead of mouth… he doesn’t know it, but when I leave to use the bathroom, I wash my face to rid myself of his ritual kiss that is placed on my skin out of habit, not affection.
~
I lie beside him in bed each night, his light snoring a gentle current that lulls me to sleep. When the rising sun paints the sky with the glory of its presence, pale golden rays fall on my eyelids to wake me up, and for a 
little while I lie there in the soothing warmth of the sun’s first rays, stroking my husband’s forehead. When he wakes at my touch, he smiles at me. The sunrise in all its heat and glory pales in comparison to his smile, to how his dark eyes soften with love when he looks at me.
Every morning, he pulls me close in a tight embrace, and my eyes begin to water with unbidden tears because it feels so good just to be held. I am safe, pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around my small frame, shutting out all the stress and worry of my life. I am comforted, and feel full of the promise of the day.
I make him breakfast and serve it to him. As I set down the plate, he smiles, wrapping an arm around my waist. I love how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. His fingertips drum a beat on my hipbone, and he laughs softly before standing up and kissing the back of my neck. It fills my heart with joy to be his wife, to serve him food, to maintain his household. I will do it forever, if it makes him happy.
As he whispers to me in a deep, rough voice that seeps warmth and love into the very core of my being, I hold his hand. The very touch of skin against skin leaves my fingers tingling with happiness. He rubs his thumb against the back of my hand in small circles, and the corners of my mouth lift in a tender smile.
With gentle intention, I tilt his head back and place my lips upon his. It is a soft, sweet kiss, and as he leans into it he embraces me. The kiss is edged with passion, and the warmth of my husband’s lips is soft. This kiss is both pleasure and pain; my heart is throbbing wildly beneath my ribcage, my pulse races, and I feel as though I am about to suffocate. But as our lips part, I realize I want another kiss, for his mouth is honey and the tender way in which he holds me is trembling fire and unwavering strength.
When he leans in, my heart flutters and I meet his lips with mine, eyes closed and fingers entwined with his.
My heart aches with the amount of love it hold for him and him alone.
~
My heart aches with loneliness and with the knowledge that a once passionate love has been reduced to the barest of its origins. It is a mean echo and a few ragged notes of what was once a symphony of undying love woven into passionate, harmonic music. The commitment I made weighs more than the ocean. The regret of my marriage and of time ravishing what was once glorious is heavier than the sky. I simply fell out of love with a man who now relies upon me for everything.
He is my responsibility, not my love. It is my duty now to care for him, and I will do my duty.
But he is my father, not my husband.
Photo Citations:
“Tips-for-healthy-lifestyle-to-keep-old-age-away-longer1.” Worlding. 7 Dec. 2012. Web. 5 Nov. 2015.
“Our Love Will Never Fade:::::.” By Ale07 on DeviantArt. Web. 5 Nov. 2015.
“30 Exquisite Love Pictures.” Picsy Mag. 20 Sept. 2015. Web. 5 Nov. 2015.
