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The Silence Between Us
When Sex is the Last Bridge
There are truths we whisper only to ourselves in the depths of night, when the world sleeps and our masks finally rest. Truths about love, desire, and the complex webs we weave in our relationships. Today, I decided to share one of these truths, because I suspect many of you will see yourselves reflected in this private mirror I’m exposing.
There are moments when I wonder how we got here. How we went from endless conversations fueled by wine and laughter to a silence punctuated only by the soft hum of noise-canceling headphones — the latest physical barrier in a relationship already full of invisible walls. I watch my husband preparing dinner, his precise movements cutting vegetables while remaining in his own sonic world, and I wonder if he’s actually listening to anything or if those headphones have simply become a shield against my presence.
Love is a curious dance, isn’t it? A pas de deux where partners sometimes move in perfect synchronicity and, at other times, seem to be dancing to completely different songs. During the day, we’re like awkward dancers, stumbling over each other in a choreography of domestic irritations. He complains about the electric bill, I forget to pay the bills, he explodes over the messy house, I plead for calm.
