Soft folds of Blanket - By Kasturi Sinha

 

Jasika sat at the edge of her couch, biting her finger nails and with her watery eyes staring at the soft folds of her blanket. It had become a familiar routine —sitting, waiting, and hoping that tonight would be different. Her husband, Peter, was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and she knew he was avoiding eye contact with her. It hadn’t always been like this. When they first married, intimacy was effortless. Their connection was strong, and they could spend hours just being close. But over the past years, something had shifted. Sex became infrequent, awkward, and eventually avoided altogether. At first, they both pretended it was just stress: Peter had been working longer hours, and Jasika had her own challenges with anxiety. But the silence between them began to grow, stretching out in the space where there used to be warmth.

Jasika and Peter had been married for over five years. From the outside, their life seemed picture-perfect: a cosy home, steady jobs, and a routine that most would call stable. But what no one knew was the silence that lay between them—the growing chasm in their bedroom. In the beginning, passion was effortless. Their attraction felt natural, like gravity pulling them together. Late-night conversations turned into tender embraces, which turned into fiery, intimate moments. But over time, life began to take its toll. The stress of work, bills, and family responsibilities chipped away at their once effortless connection. Slowly, without either of them noticing, their once-vibrant sex life began to fade. Peter would come home exhausted from his job, mentally drained and physically spent. Jasika, juggling work and household duties, felt emotionally neglected. Nights that used to end in cuddles and whispers now ended with Peter turning his back, scrolling on his phone, or falling asleep early, leaving Jasika staring at the ceiling, wondering when things had gone wrong. 

Jasika had struggled with anxiety since her early twenties. Most days, she managed it—therapy sessions, mindfulness exercises, and medication helped but lately, she couldn’t shake the heavy cloud that followed her everywhere. The anxiety had crept into every part of her life, and now, it had found its way into their bedroom. The thought of being intimate felt overwhelming. What if she couldn’t perform? What if Peter thoughtless of her? The thoughts spiralled until they felt too big to handle. Peter, on the other hand, had always been confident, but lately, he had been retreating. Jasika could see the signs of depression in him, though he didn’t like to talk about it. He’d lost interest in things he used to love, barely had energy for anything beyond work, and had started making excuses to avoid intimacy. "I'm tired," he’d say. Or, "Maybe tomorrow."

But tomorrow never came.

The emotional distance between them felt like an unspoken truth, growing larger every day. Jasika knew they needed to talk about it, but where would she begin? She was terrified of what the conversation might reveal that they had grown apart or that their problems ran deeper than just stress and exhaustion. And yet, avoiding it wasn’t making things any better.For months, neither of them said a word about it. There was no argument, no fiery confrontation just the silent agreement to let things be as they were. Jasika felt lonely in her own home, but she was too afraid to bring it up, fearing it might make things worse. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t know how to express his feelings. He loved Jasika deeply, but something in him had changed. He wasn’t sure if it was stress, aging, or simply falling into the comfort of routine, but he felt distant, disconnected.One night, Jasika couldn’t take it anymore. She turned to him in bed, the weight of her frustration pressing her words out.

“Peter,” she began, her voice soft but trembling, “do you even notice how far apart we’ve drifted?”

“We haven’t been... us in a long time. I feel like we’re just living together, not really being together. Do you even want to be close anymore? Or has that part of us just died?”

Peter stared at her, the truth of her words cutting deep. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he had felt it too. The gap between them was no longer just physical—it was emotional. And now, faced with her vulnerability, he felt the weight of his own silence.

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to be close, Jasika. I do. I just... I don’t know where to start. Everything feels so heavy now.”

The room was thick with the weight of everything left unsaid for so long. But for the first time in months, Jasika felt like they were starting to face it together. “Maybe we don’t have to fix everything at once,” she said softly. “But we can start by talking about it, by being honest. And maybe… maybe we can get help. Together.”

They lay there in the dark, the silence between them louder than ever. Neither had an answer, but the conversation marked the first time they had truly acknowledged the distance.

Peter nodded, squeezing her hand. “I don’t want to lose you, Jasika. I’ve been scared. I didn’t know how to talk about it.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

There were no easy answers, but for the first time in what felt like forever, Jasika didn’t feel alone in her struggle.

That night, they didn’t fix everything. But they took a step forward and towards each other, toward healing, and toward understanding that mental health and intimacy were intertwined in ways they hadn’t fully realized. It wouldn’t be easy, but they were finally ready to face it, one conversation at a time.

From that night on, things didn’t magically improve. There were no grand solutions, no easy fixes. But little by little, they began to try. They started with small gestures—lingering touches, quiet moments of conversation that weren’t about work or household chores. They sought therapy, slowly unravelling the unspoken frustrations that had built over the years. Their sexual life didn’t immediately reignite, but intimacy began to return in other forms. They found that connection wasn’t just about sex, but about being vulnerable, seen, and heard by one another.

Jasika and Peter’s story was one of many. It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t end in some grand romantic resolution. But in their willingness to face the silence between them, they found a way back to each other—imperfect, messy, but real.