Things Are Fine

Sometimes things are not always what they appear to be.

Sometimes they are exactly what they appear to be.

All my friends were happy when I got married. They gushed over me, like all friends do. They gave me trinkets and lacy things to wear for my chosen partner. They cried tears of joy. They voiced concern, but in the end, they waved good-bye to me and went off to find partners of their own.

Most of them are married now. Some of them have families.

I do not.

It’s not that my husband isn’t caring. He cares for me quite a bit.

He provides for me, houses me, teaches me.

But he rarely touches me.

He says he respects me over all other witches. You should have heard his snarl of distain over the frilly things I had brought along on our honeymoon.

He wouldn’t dare dishonor me, or disrespect me by requesting those hideous tools of lust. He incinerated them at once.

When he took me, it was quick. He muttered a lubrication spell. I assumed it was out of nervousness. Now, looking back, I don’t think he wanted to touch me more than he had to. He spelled our clothing away, as well.

He loves me. He does.

Well, he doesn’t really say it, of course. He’s a very private man that way.

But, I believe he does.

He does come to my chamber a few times a year. He never stays long. He’s always embarrassed.

He’s proudest of me in his laboratory. I assist him.

I am his other half.

I’m valuable. He tells me so often.

He deeply cares for me.

I think.