Perhaps she will start a new life. Retrain. Learn some new skills. She wonders if she is crazy. Full of shit.

She wonders if she would like herself, if she found who she was. She wonders what it would take to make her happy. She keeps her mouth shut. Her head down. Works harder. Tries to be this better wife. A better mother. Ignores the comments. Ignores the avoidance, his inability to focus and his insomnia. Ignores his melancholy. Ignores his lack of enthusiasm, his lack of self-care and she tries harder.

She keeps her mouth shut. Unwashed he watches the telly. It is deafening her. She cannot stand the chaos.

She is losing her drive. Her energy is zapped. The harder she tries, the more she pushes and harder she works the more he resists and the less he moves. She has no idea. Who is she now? What does she want? Why? Where is this resistance coming from? She cannot pin it down. She does not know what this is. He cannot speak. He sits. The television blaring. The kids play in the yard.

She wonders what it would be like to have another chance. To start over. To have all these moments again. 

He won't connect. He won't look at her. Distant. Detached. Cold. She is angry and hurt. His conversations rattle her. Disjointed. 

She will leave. She tells him it is time to stay loyal or she will go. She's had enough. She watches his every move. Tense. It's too much. Perhaps she can turn a blind eye like his family suggest? Ignore it. Not be so demanding. Lower the bar. Set a new standard. They tell her it is what it is. People don't change. Time to live with it. 

Can she?

She is weak. Tired. He loves these kids. She is broken.