I'm Fine and Neither Are You

by Camille Pagán

Change was a privilege reserved for people whose families didn’t rely on them for food, shelter, and health insurance.

But something between us had shifted over the course of our marriage, particularly the last two to three years. We had gone from being lovers to best friends to . . . roommates who routinely irritated each other. If I was honest with myself, that was what it felt like most of the time.

Stress was part of the reason we were slowly self-imploding; that I knew. Simply figuring out the logistics of any given week was enough to send my blood pressure soaring—and that was before I tore open the quarterly statement for our retirement account and was reminded we had saved roughly one-tenth of the recommended amount for a couple on the cusp of forty who didn’t want to work until they were both a hundred and three. As such, I wasn’t always a peach to live with. In response, he wielded his sarcasm like a weapon.

There was a reason that instead of daydreaming about my husband taking me passionately against a wall, I fantasized about replacing him with a wife.

But even a solid foundation could crumble from one too many cracks.