believe that you hate me, Janet.”
“I do, Mark. I’m really afraid that I do,” Janet said as the hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I love the man I married so much. But this other man, this man I don’t know.”
“I love you, Janet,” he said weakly, almost mechanically.
“Do you, Mark? When was the last time you touched me? I’m sure you don’t know. It was four months ago. You used to want to make love with me all the time. Now all you care about, pretend to care about, is medicine. You don’t even want to make love anymore. Maybe you can’t .”
“Janet!” Mark’s shock was quickly replaced by anger. “You knew this wouldn’t be easy. You knew that these years would be hard, the hardest. That I would be tired. That I wouldn’t feel like making love every night.”
“Four months, Mark.”
“But nothing else has changed.”
“ Everything else has changed. I could live with you forever, never make love with you again, if I believed that I made a difference to you. That I was part of your life.”
“You are. You do.”
“No. I used to be. But not anymore. You’ve shut me out. You are moody and angry and unhappy, and you won’t share it with me.”
“I am not.”
“You don’t even know,” Janet said sadly, defeated.
“I am tired. This is hard work. That is all.”
“No.”
“Yes,” Mark sighed. “This is so classic. This is why doctors’ marriages fall apart. This
is what happens. Don’t let it happen to us.”
“I’m not complaining about your call schedule or that you fall asleep during dinner or that you work on Christmas. That isn’t what this is all about.”
“But you do complain about those things.”
“I note those things. They are annoying, but they don’t end marriages. At least they wouldn’t end mine.”
“End?”
“Yes, e nd . You are not listening. I don’t believe that you love me anymore.”
“I do.”
Janet sighed. Mark hated medicine and said he loved it. What did it mean when he said he loved her? He probably didn’t even know.
“I don’t feel loved.”
“That’s your problem,” he said coldly.
“Maybe it is. When you don’t feel loved, when I don’t feel loved, I begin to hate myself. Look at me, Mark. I’m fat. I’ve gained twenty pounds in the past six months.”
Janet had always been slender, fit. When she danced, she had no fat on her sleek, trim body. Twenty pounds didn’t make Janet less beautiful, but it made her feel terrible. She was enveloped in a heavy thickness which, more than anything, was an ever present symbol of how unhappy she was.
“You look fine.” Mark’s tone reflected annoyance. He was tired of this conversation. He had other things to worry about. What was Janet’s problem?
“Mark,” she said finally, standing in front of him, trembling with rage and frustration. “Listen to me, damn you. I am leaving you. I cannot stand being with you anymore. I cannot stand hating myself and hating you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me.”
Janet went into the bedroom and returned almost immediately with two heavy, obviously packed, suitcases.
“Janet.” Mark stood up.
“I have to leave,” she said. “I am suffocating.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have reservations at a motel tonight. It’s near. I can take a taxi. Tomorrow I’ll find an apartment near the office or on a bus line. You need the car.”
Their rented house on Twin Peaks was on a bus line. It was an easy commute for Janet to the real estate office where she worked as a receptionist.
“Janet, don’t leave. Can’t we talk about it?”
“We’ve just been talking about it, and it’s obvious that we can’t talk. We can’t communicate. We can’t even agree on what has happened to us.”
“Nothing has happened to us,” Mark said firmly.
“You see!” Janet yelled in frustration. “Nothing has happened except that I hate you and myself and I’m leaving.”
They stared at each other, glowering,
“I do, Mark. I’m really afraid that I do,” Janet said as the hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I love the man I married so much. But this other man, this man I don’t know.”
“I love you, Janet,” he said weakly, almost mechanically.
“Do you, Mark? When was the last time you touched me? I’m sure you don’t know. It was four months ago. You used to want to make love with me all the time. Now all you care about, pretend to care about, is medicine. You don’t even want to make love anymore. Maybe you can’t .”
“Janet!” Mark’s shock was quickly replaced by anger. “You knew this wouldn’t be easy. You knew that these years would be hard, the hardest. That I would be tired. That I wouldn’t feel like making love every night.”
“Four months, Mark.”
“But nothing else has changed.”
“ Everything else has changed. I could live with you forever, never make love with you again, if I believed that I made a difference to you. That I was part of your life.”
“You are. You do.”
“No. I used to be. But not anymore. You’ve shut me out. You are moody and angry and unhappy, and you won’t share it with me.”
“I am not.”
“You don’t even know,” Janet said sadly, defeated.
“I am tired. This is hard work. That is all.”
“No.”
“Yes,” Mark sighed. “This is so classic. This is why doctors’ marriages fall apart. This
is what happens. Don’t let it happen to us.”
“I’m not complaining about your call schedule or that you fall asleep during dinner or that you work on Christmas. That isn’t what this is all about.”
“But you do complain about those things.”
“I note those things. They are annoying, but they don’t end marriages. At least they wouldn’t end mine.”
“End?”
“Yes, e nd . You are not listening. I don’t believe that you love me anymore.”
“I do.”
Janet sighed. Mark hated medicine and said he loved it. What did it mean when he said he loved her? He probably didn’t even know.
“I don’t feel loved.”
“That’s your problem,” he said coldly.
“Maybe it is. When you don’t feel loved, when I don’t feel loved, I begin to hate myself. Look at me, Mark. I’m fat. I’ve gained twenty pounds in the past six months.”
Janet had always been slender, fit. When she danced, she had no fat on her sleek, trim body. Twenty pounds didn’t make Janet less beautiful, but it made her feel terrible. She was enveloped in a heavy thickness which, more than anything, was an ever present symbol of how unhappy she was.
“You look fine.” Mark’s tone reflected annoyance. He was tired of this conversation. He had other things to worry about. What was Janet’s problem?
“Mark,” she said finally, standing in front of him, trembling with rage and frustration. “Listen to me, damn you. I am leaving you. I cannot stand being with you anymore. I cannot stand hating myself and hating you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me.”
Janet went into the bedroom and returned almost immediately with two heavy, obviously packed, suitcases.
“Janet.” Mark stood up.
“I have to leave,” she said. “I am suffocating.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have reservations at a motel tonight. It’s near. I can take a taxi. Tomorrow I’ll find an apartment near the office or on a bus line. You need the car.”
Their rented house on Twin Peaks was on a bus line. It was an easy commute for Janet to the real estate office where she worked as a receptionist.
“Janet, don’t leave. Can’t we talk about it?”
“We’ve just been talking about it, and it’s obvious that we can’t talk. We can’t communicate. We can’t even agree on what has happened to us.”
“Nothing has happened to us,” Mark said firmly.
“You see!” Janet yelled in frustration. “Nothing has happened except that I hate you and myself and I’m leaving.”
They stared at each other, glowering,
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