Away From Everywhere by Chad Pelley Page B

that passion into oblivion, and wind up attracted to someone else. Then they deny this: to themselves at first, and then to their loved ones.
    At least we can blame biology, the instincts seared into us by a billion years of evolution. It’s easier that way. “It’s only natural for the mind to wander.” And what is natural is beyond us, like God making marionettes of us. To fight desire is, by this logic, unnatural and exhausting. I keep coming back to Natalie’s bold statement last week: “Adultery is only immoral if it is others you are putting first and not yourself. Isn’t it wrong to deny yourself?” I disagree if she is referring to sex with a stranger, or a man who means nothing to you, for the cheap thrill of it. That is what cheating is: cheap sex for thrills. But what about when you feel an emotional connection to a man like you’ve never felt before. What about when you feel that emotional connection like a soft bearhug every day, and your heart and soul are encouraging it, finding reasons to cross paths with the man?What’s that called, if not love?What about when a man, who isn’t your husband, understands you more, makes your skin alive with a static tingling, makes you laugh more, flatters you and makes you feel distinct, desirable, one in a million? Notices you, the little things that make you you?What then?
    To be selfless but self-defeating is such a slow suicide.
    What about when you jump out of bed without hitting snooze even once, because you know you’ll be seeing that man today?
    Thing is, I’ve seen the way Owen looks at me, like Alex used to. I’ve seen how Owen assesses our marriage and feels bad for me.
    He even apologizes for his brother’s absenteeism, and takes the kids out for ice creams and walks along the river. The kids’ rooms are filled with bugs in jars Owen collected himself. They Google what to feed them, how to make sure a caterpillar will pupate. I know Alex would do all these things if he had the time, but I also know Owen would make the time if he was as busy as Alex.
    It’s the way that Owen treats me that made it okay for me to indulge today. Because I always thought the purpose of marriage was to be satiated, not hungry for desiring eyes. I am starved for attention, and that is not why I married. I married to spend every day loved and wanted and noticed and safe and happy and satisfied and jealous of myself. I should not feel selfish for wanting to be adored.
    Owen reads out back with me as I garden. He comes with me to the plant nurseries to weigh in on what I buy, and helps me lug it all back to the yard. He compliments my work in the garden, and I teach him stuff about gardening, and I know it sounds so stupid to say this, but that makes me feel useful and intelligent, and though my reasoning is vague, having someone to witness what I do with my time makes me feel relevant to someone. Owen is excited about the tomatoes in the greenhouse, whereas Alex still buys tomatoes at the grocery store even though I’ve told him they are growing out back. I’ve told him a thousand times, and that means he never listened to me a thousand times. He only cares to hear certain things, like supper is on the table, I picked up your dry cleaning today, and that yes, I am sure I am all right.
    I am needy, I need some attention, maybe I shouldn’t blame my husband for that. But I wasn’t always a hassle, I wasn’t always so invisible, so unnecessary. Where do I place the blame for that? The rolled eyes break my heart every time. I am married to a man who rolls his eyes at me. Then I feel silly for thinking he should adore me too much to roll his eyes at me. Childish really, idealistic. But it is how I feel, how he makes me feel, like I want a man who knows the shapes of my fingers, the shampoo I use, and how to never upset me enough to make him roll his eyes at me.
    Owen and I grocery shop together now, or go