A few years into my marriage, physical relations with my wife fell off dramatically, partly due to a medical condition on her part. Not long thereafter, I started to engage the services of working girls. I thought that all was well as long as I didn't spend our retirement money, didn't bring home some horrendous disease, or ruin my career.
I was never foolish enough to think of leaving my wife for one of these women. I know who's going to stick around to take care of me when I'm drooling into a cup and staring blankly at TV reruns of "Battlestar Galactica," and it's not going to be someone whose company comes at an hourly rate.
After several years of this I finally put a stop to it just a couple of months ago. I've quit cold turkey. The problem is that I feel I'm paying for my transgression in other ways. I left a job about two years ago and the job I've taken is horrible.
Not only that, it's in another city, so I'm commuting on weekends to see my wife. For almost a year now I've been looking for a new job and can't even get potential employers to return my calls. I feel stuck here, and each day I grow more despondent.
I'm so unhappy and convinced that I've created a bad fate for myself that on more than a few nights I've cried myself to sleep. Unfortunately, I can't just quit because we need the second salary. I'm not the least bit religious, despite years of Catholic school, and I don't think I'm superstitious.
