You Can Lead A Horse To Water...

I don't 'surprise' my Hubby anymore. I probably never did. It's because I have ugly brown hair and no tits. This makes me invisible to the opposite sex you know; and probably to most lesbians as well.

They're my reasons. Not his. I have to imagine what his reasons might be because we don't speak about our relationship anymore. It's taboo.

I found out the Real truth about a month ago, though I've had my suspicions for the last fifteen years or thereabouts that my Hubby doesn't think I'm a very attractive woman. Or person- or whatever it is that I am. We were at the pub when I found out he thinks that I'm ugly; no surprises there- it's the only place we ever go anywhere together...

I was having a good time because I was off my head on Pills and Pot and Piss. Everyone is. There is a band playing tonight- this is their Final Gig- and we're all standing off to one side near the cigarette machine. There's a whole group of us out but that's not uncommon; Hubby and I hardly go anywhere by ourselves anymore either- it's getting too hard to keep the stilted conversations developing into the arguments they become.

But we're getting on well enough tonight- for a welcome change; we'll probably even have some sex later on. I'm in a good enough mood to consider doing it- if he asks. Not that he hits me up for sex very often anymore. He says he's just not horny very often but I know that he would be if only he found me more appealing.

Thankfully, the Beer Goggles are on tonight; his pupils are huge- mine would look much the same I imagine. It's the drugs. That's the reason he wants to have sex with me tonight; because he can see me as attractive when I'm smiling and laughing and being drug-funny. He can see that other people want to talk to me- that other people Like talking to me- and for a brief moment it seems that he's remembered who I really am. And then he likes me again.

He doesn't mind that I kiss him in front of his friends; one of them even remarking that they've never seen it happen before. He holds the bony hand that I place on his leg. At one point he even asks my friend's sister-in-law to take a photo of the two of us together. She wasn't going to- because it's not her camera- until we tell her that we only have had about three photos of us taken together in all the time that we have been with each other- and that we only have one picture of us together where both of our children are also in the photo.

She's so shocked that she takes one of us immediately and promises to send us a copy; He's in one of his loving moods for a change and has his arm draped over my shoulder. These moods don't happen very often- or last very long when they do- so I was lapping up the attention I suppose. It feels like my Hubby starves me for affection most of the time. Our entire physical contact lately has Me limited to two small kisses a day; one before I drop him at work and one before bed-time. I think it's his aim to eventually wean himself off me completely.

I don't honestly blame him. It must be hard to want to touch someone who you don't find sexually attractive. He banned me from having sex with him for three months once- I forget why now- but caved in six weeks early because he couldn't be bothered having a wank...

What must be even worse, though is having kids together and being stuck with me (in some capacity at least) for the rest of his life. I'm the ugly one-night-stand who never went away. Hi; it's nice to meet you.

He'd laugh his arse off if he ever read this, you know. He'd think it very amusing that I'm worried about and even remember stuff like this; things like this that happened months, and sometimes even years, ago. Like how I'll remember that hot blonde chick forever now; the one who was walking into the pub the other night just as we were leaving...

I'm sure even he would remember her. You should have seen his jaw drop. His reaction was so obvious I should have predicted it, but I was still feeling good about Myself because of all the drugs I'd taken earlier in the evening, and because my Hubby had paid me some attention for a pleasant change, and hadn't ignored my presence as usual.

In an instant he changes and stiffens and I know instinctively that he wished I wasn't walking beside him at that very moment. I felt it. I look up and can see why, even in my drug-induced haze. I know he wishes I wasn't with him when he sees something as tasty as her walking past. And he just doesn't get it; that it hurts that he can look at someone else in a way that I've never seen him look at Me before. I wouldn't even care if even just Once he looked at me in the same way that he just looked at her. And that'll never happen. I'm not 'surprising' like that chick is.

She's the sort of girl who takes his breath away. Don't forget to breathe, now- will you; and watch out that you don't go walking straight into any telegraph poles or oncoming traffic while your eyes follow that perfect size eight arse- will you- and don't forget to forget all about Me while you are at it, either. That's the most important part.

The best part of the evening comes later, though, when he tells me to get over it; that he can't help it if he found her so attractive. And No; I suppose he can't; because she was young and really hot. But I can't help sulking and feeling a bit sad about that little fact. I might be ugly but I still have feelings and I don't like to be forgotten. I still want to thought of as desirable by Somebody. Anybody. And that person is supposed to be my Hubby; isn't it?

Even if there is no one else in the world who thinks I'm pretty- he should; shouldn't he?

Well, he doesn't. And he never has. That chick already had Everybody Else looking at her and wanting to be with her. She doesn't have only one person (or less) who thinks she's pretty; she gets it all the time from Everyone. Even the Strangers on the street.

The point that I'm trying to make is that I think that everyone deserves to feel like they are the only-good looking person in the World; at least to their Partner- and especially when they are right there With you. I don't know if it's a lack of respect or just a flaw of human nature in men to blatantly show their attraction for another woman right in front of their Missus. And it's certainly not conduicive to a prosperous and fulfilling sex life. I don't feel slutty and wanted anymore; I feel old and sexless. I feel like he doesn't even want me touching him anymore. That's a big enough turn-off in itself...

A few days later I got a copy of the photo that my friend's sister-in-law took of us. I stuck it up on my fridge so that my Hubby could see it when he got home- especially as he had been the one who insisted it be taken in the first place; but he went to the pub straight after work and didn't get home until late, so he didn't see the photo until the next night, when we again came home late from the pub. My kids were at their Grandma's, so I'd been able to go along as well.

He peers closely at the photo and comments that this is the nicest photo he has seen of me in years. That's not necessarily a compliment, either, for all of You going Awwwww...at your computer desks at home. It just means that in this photo I'm not pulling a face or grimacing, and I'm not totally expressionless or obviously inebriated, either. I actually even liked the photo a bit myself- until I asked my Hubby the next stupid question.

Am I Attractive To You?

I guage his reaction from the instant I ask him; he quickly realises that I want the truth and that I'm alert to any lies he's thinking of telling me- and wisely decides against it. He opens his mouth to say something but no noise comes out. I don't need to hear the answer anyway; not anymore. His silence told me the truth.

He half-heartedly apologises and goes to bed while I take a last swig of my drink and also head off to bed, still following him for sex because that's all that I have left to offer him. He takes it up, but only to make me feel better- I think he's actually feeling sorry that he finds me ugly when I obviously need so badly not to be. He doesn't even have to say it; I just know it. A tear drips down and pools beside my eye before quietly slipping over my nose. I'm rolled away from him with my back towards him so that he never has to know that I silently cried while he gently fucked me.

What's the point of telling him that?

He forgets as soon as it's morning again that I was ever upset and we won't communicate verbally about it, or physically at all, until the next time that we have sex. I'm not even sure when that will be because I've decided to go off the Pill. Don't tell my Father, will you? I can't justify spending eighty dollars a year on contraception when a dozen condoms costing less than ten bucks would be more than enough for the entire job. Probably.

There might even be other benefits- maybe if I stop taking the pill all the marijuana I smoke might not make me crazy anymore- maybe I'll even be able to smoke More. And I'm sick of remembering to take it every day. It's just a pain in my arse. Especially when I'm not getting any action.

It's only too late that I've realised that I still really want him to like having sex with me; and the truth is that he doesn't anymore, because he can't find me attractive. I'm sick of lying there waiting for him to find me desirable;it just isn't going to happen.

It seems that you Really can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. Especially if the horse is like mine and is Never thirsty.

At least not for anything that I've got...