For most of my life I was alone, and at some point I lost faith in my ability to find a woman worthy of becoming my wife. My life was a complete routine: work on weekdays, a drive to the country house on weekends. I had a tiny plot with a small vegetable garden, where it was just nice to grow my own carrots and dill or pick cherries and apples from trees, instead of buying everything in the store. I had a neighbor there who we greeted and politely asked each other how we were doing, but we didn’t talk much. I wouldn’t have looked in her direction if one day, while I was at the cottage, the neighbor’s boys hadn’t broken her window. She was screaming so loud that I ran over to help, thinking thieves had broken in.
We cleaned the glass and drank tea together, got to talking about life, realized we had common topics of conversation, and with time began to spend every weekend together. She was the first to propose we officially meet and the first to propose marriage. I was all for it, I believed that I could at least build my happiness with her. I didn’t think she was just rubbing my trust to move into an apartment in the city. She used to be so thrifty at the dacha, doing everything for me, telling me how much she loved me, but then she retired and moved in with me, and that was it – no more love, no more tomatoes.
She lies on the couch all day and night, waiting for me to make her breakfast in bed, pamper her with trips to cafes after work, and she is saving her pension, because since there are no children of her own, she will pamper her nephews.
Is it normal that I feel cheated? I was counting on a real relationship and love, but my feelings are one-sided. My wife is warm to me only if I have done something special for her, and so she drives me to the dacha to look after the two plots…
