"Honey what's wrong…did I say something wrong?"
Oh god, he looks miserable…why can't I make him happy? I feel like I've failed him as a wife. I don't understand how or why, when I have devoted so much time and energy into being the perfect wife. Why can't he see that I have been trying so hard, for so long, in so many different ways? Is it because he's ashamed of me? I never wanted Ted to be embarrassed in front of his colleagues for choosing to marry the daughter of Chinese immigrants, instead of a wealthy high society girl. What do you want from me? Haven't I proven to you and your family that I can fit into your world? What more could you possibly ask? I gave you a beautiful daughter and I've sacrificed the best of myself. Piece by piece, I gave away small parts of me to be more accepted. Why can't Ted see how much I love and need him? Can't he see that everything I do, I do for him, for us, for our family? How did we end up here?
Somewhere, in the deeper recesses of my mind, I know that a part of me already knows the answer. But I'm petrified of losing him. So I just keep pushing myself. I don't allow myself to dwell for too long in my thoughts, out of fear of what answers I may find. I busy myself with the day-to-day runnings of the house. The little things that wives do to show our love. Things like deciding what to cook for dinner and choosing Ted's clothes and laying them out each morning. In a way, I'm just going through the motions, prolonging what we both know is inevitable. Anything to avoid acknowledging how far we have drifted apart, how hopeless any future for our marriage looks…
