Pandemic Dating Diaries
The Pandemic Dating Diaries is a series from The Bold Italic that features moments in love, dating, and sex during Covid-19 directly from our readers. Have a story you’d like to submit? Email us or DM us on Twitter or Instagram.
“Do you want to come to bed?” I ask as I put my arms around my husband from behind the couch. Surely, he knows what this means. It’s 10 p.m. on a Tuesday and it’s been a week since we last went to bed together.
“In a bit,” he answers.
It’s now been a month. He never came to bed.
When my husband and I first started dating during our university days, we were in our very early twenties. There were a thousand things to do each day, including to each other.
My husband is now 32. We have been married for about two years. We have a dog, no kids, an apartment, a pandemic, and a PlayStation. (No, not the PS5 — what kind of self-harming wife do you think I was at Christmas?)
When the pandemic started, I knew my normally social husband was going to struggle. Personally, as an introvert, I was secretly excited by the canceled plans in my near future. My husband, however, was over it in about 90 seconds. Once sports were off the table, I knew we were in serious trouble. He needs about three things in life to be happy: people, pubs, and sports.
All three things were gone in the span of two weeks.
Then he came home with the PlayStation.
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At first, I thought nothing of it. Something to do occasionally to pass the time.
How naive of me.
My husband — who I have been going to bed with at the same time for the last six years — started to stay up later. And later. Midnight turned into 2 a.m. His morning moods got worse and worse.
I genuinely don’t consider myself to be a nag. I really and truly don’t. But that PlayStation is not only ruining our normally frisky sex life, but it’s invaded other aspects of our daily lives, too. When we aren’t at home, my husband receives messages from his friends asking when he’ll be “back to game.” He’s spending money on new virtual “weapons” and lost interest in his other hobbies. And yes, this includes me — in bed, or anywhere else.
I have a high sex drive, and I’m proud of this. It’s something that’s extremely important to me in a relationship. Maybe I’m being hasty here, but just one moment of physical touch in the past two months? It’s enough to drive a girl to blog about it.
So what is my plan?
I’m not going to attempt to play with him, and I’m not going to nag him about it any more than I already have. I won’t be giving any ultimatums and I won’t be “accidentally” letting our puppy chew up his power cords… yet.
I’m going to give it time.
I know, I know. This isn’t a strategy and this probably isn’t the answer that you wanted from clicking on this piece. You wanted answers. A story. A triumph!
I have come to the conclusion, though, that this is a phase my husband needs to get through. I can’t push him either way and I don’t want to either. The pandemic has caused a lot of trouble in a lot of places. My husband playing video games — which has mostly just resulted in me masturbating more — isn’t that high on the scale.
Of course, the worst thing that could happen is that this thing ruins my marriage. But, no matter how badly I want to throw that thing off the third-floor balcony some nights, it’s not my responsibility to tell a grown man when he has had too much screen time. If I wanted a kid, I would have one. This will play out as it’s meant to, and I refuse to be someone who forces another human to “spend time with them.” For now, thank god for vibrators and special, worthy-of-deleting-my-browser-history websites.
For better or for worse, for better or for worse, for better or for worse.
I know my husband. One day he’ll wake up and never have the desire to play that damn thing anymore. Which will mean that he’ll play with me again.
But I hope it’s soon.
