Support Her

She didnʻt want to talk when we got home. I didnʻt try to push a conversation. I stayed near, in case she needed anything. I made sure that I was there because sometimes there were moments of clarity while doing the most mundane things. She fought it, I could tell.
She set about her daily routine as if nothing happened. I donʻt push the issue because I feel like Iʻll never be able to understand. Itʻs her body after all.

One morning while driving her to work, I noticed that she busied herself going over documents for work and then texting her findings to her co-workers. At least she could lose herself in her job for a while, get her mind off of things. "You should leave me."

"Iʻm sorry?" I wasnʻt quite sure that Iʻd heard her correctly.

"You should leave me," she looked back and forth from the documents on her lap and to her phone, and back again. Never once did she look me in the eye.

"Why do you say that?" I made sure not to show any emotion. I didnʻt want to spark an argument before she got to work.

"Because," she scrolled the screen on her phone. "I donʻt know when Iʻll be ready to be intimate again."

"Thereʻs no rush on that, youʻre ready when youʻre ready," I meant what I was saying. I wasnʻt trying to placate her or patronize her.

"Itʻs just that...we were trying so hard, and then it happened, and we were happy, and then it didnʻt happen," she trailed off. She was having a difficult time with her text until her face turned red, and she threw her phone at the windshield. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

After six months, she was letting it out now; she buried her head in her hands and broke down crying. I pulled in to the 7-11 parking lot on Waiʻalae and 2nd avenue. I rubbed her back and let her cry and swear as much as she needed to. Finally, she reached her hand out to me, and I took it in mine. She pulled herself into my arms and buried her head in my chest, crying all the while. Before I knew it, we were wildly kissing in the car, nearly tearing each other's clothes off. "Go back home," she said. "Hurry."

I barely made it home while driving with her tongue in my ear and her hand in my pants. Once we pulled into the garage, we did it right there. Luckily, our neighbors had all gone to work. Thirty minutes later, we found ourselves at St. Louis drive-inn voraciously eating cheeseburgers and fries in our car.

"You feel better now?" I asked.

"A lot better," she nodded. "I feel like I failed you, I really wanted to do well. When do you think weʻll be ready to try again?"

"Thatʻs up to you," I assured her.

"Okay, I know you need the practice, so any demon you summon is fine, just make sure its not one of those sex demons. I was sore for a long time."