Tossing laundry into the washing machine, Tessa paused, looking at a ratty old pair of plaid boxer shorts.
“These are gross. How is Jordan even still wearing them? What is wrong with him?”
Irritated, Tessa continued loading the machine. Her own underwear was pretty: black cotton with black lace trim. And of course she had some sexier ones too. The point was that she put effort into keeping herself lovely – for herself and for her husband.
“These are literally ten years old. I’m not going to have sex with him until he buys new underwear.”
A few pairs were even ripped –
RIPPED!
She angrily balled them up and tossed them in the garbage. A moment of guilt swished over her:
The underwear would end up in a landfill, polluting the planet.
She considered cutting them into rags. It was the right thing to do, but Tessa wasn’t that committed to the planet. Plus, they had a cleaning lady – Veronica – and Veronica was very particular about her supplies, so much so that she brought her own with her. Veronica would never use underwear rags, it was beneath her.
Later, as Jordan and her sat on opposite sides of the couch with their laptops, Tessa burst out:
“Do you still love me?”
“What? Of course I still love you. Why are you asking?”
“Because you never buy new underwear.”
“What does that have to do with me loving you?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes everything. You no longer make an effort. You don’t romance me. You don’t surprise me with little treats. You never wear the nice clothing I buy you. You never change up our routine to keep things interesting. Your nasty old boxers are symbolic.”
Jordan tilted his head:
“I bought you a gift a few days ago – that pink Christmas poinsettia.”
“Doesn’t count. You were at the grocery store picking up beer, plus it was wilted and 75% off.”
“Now you’re just sounding immature and petty. But if my underwear is so triggering I’ll buy new ones.”
Tessa started quietly weeping, as if she was at a movie theatre and didn’t want to disturb anyone.
“Why are you crying? Are you menopausing? Is that what’s really going on here?”
Tessa’s nostrils flared:
“FYI – menopausing is not a word. Also, that’s insulting, it invalidates my tears. I’m crying because I feel emotional about the state of our relationship.”
“It just seems like you would not be crying if you had seen nice underwear when you were doing laundry. And that’s nuts.”
“What’s nuts is that you’re on auto-pilot. Ever since we got married it’s like you stopped trying. You’re in this relationship passively, not actively, and that makes me feel like shit.”
“I thought one of the cool things about getting married was that you could just chill with your person, you didn’t have to be “on” all the time.”
“You don’t have to be “on,” but you do have to participate in creating a life together. You do need to give our relationship some of your energy. You have a beautiful spirit – that’s why I fell in love with you – but some of that spirit needs to be directly funnelled into ‘us.’”
“Okay, okay, I get it. At least I think I get it and I’m sorry. I’m on Nordstrom.com right now ordering boxers.”
“Thank you. And since you’re already shopping – I like the new Marc Jacobs purse, it’s called the Mini Bag. In lilac, not black.”
“Okay, gimme a second. Wait, you want this purse? It’s like crazy-tiny.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so chic.”
“I will never fully understand you.”
“And you don’t need to. You just need to love me.”
sparkledame 