Week Four

THE TOUR STARTED OFF amazing. I still have a few weeks before I have to get back and start my internship. Ben has been performing every night, getting better and better and never slowing down. Even though they have the same set, it still seems new and exciting to me every time I watch it.

Nick and I have become extremely close, bonding over our love for cheese fries and terrible action movies. I’m not a big fan of the parties the band goes to after each show, so Nick tends to come sit with me on the bus while Ben has fun and we watch the best poorly made action movies.

The band has been very welcoming, tending to be a little less crude around me. They’ve been better with the perverted jokes, shit talking about random girls they hooked up with in the past and not bringing random groupies back to the bus.

I feel bad that they feel they have to be this way around me. I may be a Christian from the south, but I’m not expecting everyone to live the way I live. Heck, I married Ben and he drinks, parties, curses and does drugs—and I still love him more and more each day.

I will never force anyone to believe what I believe.

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Week Six

Today Ben got a call from his dad and he’s been on edge all day because of it. First he stormed off the bus and had I not caught up with him, heaven knows where he would have ended up. Last time his dad called he got in a terrible fight and I don’t want him to resort to that when he has me here to talk to.

I dragged him back on the bus and we locked ourselves in the back room where the bed we share is. He calmed down after he smoked two joints. I’m not sure what that does or how much that is, but it’s how he copes. I may not like it, but I’m hoping in time I can help him change that.

We have tonight off as we travel to another town and the entire night Ben has been up shooting the breeze with Nick and the boys, being the life of the party—even if it’s a little more than usual.

I’m sitting in bed, reading my nightly scriptures, when he comes stumbling in the room laughing.

“Baby, babe! What are you—you doing?” he slurs then plops down on the bed next to me. I smell the heavy stench of alcohol coming from his breath.

“Ben, are you drunk?”

“Pfft, no, why? Do I look drunk?” He laughs and attempts to look me dead in the eyes but fails miserably as he goes cross-eyed.

“Okay, yeah you are. Maybe it’s time you go to bed and sleep this off.” I close my bible and go to stand, but I’m stopped before I can even get up. Grabbing my arm he pulls me to him and slams his mouth sloppily against mine. I pull away almost instantly, the taste of his alcohol overwhelming. I hate the bitter taste of beer.

“You’re drunk. I’m not doing that when you can’t even look at me straight,” I tell him. Standing, I move to the foot of the bed to remove his shoes.

“God, you’re such a prude. You could just say you don’t want to fuck.” He laughs and I scoff at him. Did he just say that to me?

“Excuse me?” This isn’t the first time he has gotten high and drank too much, but it’s the first time he has said something that mean to me. Since when did he resort to name calling and mean comments?

“Come on, you just want to sit here with your nose in your bible and avoid sex. It ain’t a sin if you’re married, Saint Sadie.” I remove my hands and back away as if he stung me. He didn’t need to say that. Regardless if he’s drunk or not, it was still mean and I refuse to be at the receiving end of his insults.

“I’m sleeping in the bunks, get some rest.” He blows me off with a whatever and flips onto his front to fall asleep. This Ben is someone I don’t know and seeing it tonight has turned me off mentally, physically and emotionally. I honestly hope that this will all be a dream and I’ll wake up and he’ll be back to his normal self. I try to remind myself that it was the crutches talking until my lids can’t stay open anymore.

“Please God, make this better,” I whisper as my eyes drift shut.

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I wake up to the sound of Ben in the bus bathroom losing all the contents in his stomach from the night before. I debate going in to help him, but the memory that last night happened and how he called me a prude is still fresh. I climb out of the bunk and go to the front of the bus to grab a water and start some coffee, waiting for him to come out.

I hear him brush his teeth then drag his feet through the bus. Everyone else is asleep and our bus is already at the new venue telling me we arrived sometime in the middle of the night. Checking the clock, I see it’s nearing seven. Ben doesn’t say a word to me and vice versa as he plops down at the breakfast table in the small kitchen area.

I place the water and some ibuprofen in front of him, but he doesn’t even look up at me. His head stays in his hands, his hair’s a mess, and his appearance screams hungover. He takes the pills as I pour myself some coffee and finally he peers up at me. I can feel his eyes searching me, waiting for me to speak first. But I have nothing to say.

“I didn’t mean what I said.” He breaks through the silence.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m going to shower.” With that I leave, ignoring him as he calls after me. Stepping into the small bathroom with the world’s tiniest shower, I climb in and enjoy the slow running water. It’s not much, but it’s a moment away from the crazy cluster-mess that has become this week.

Maybe we’ve spent too much time together and we just aren’t used to it. We’ve only been together for a few months, this could be one of the pitfalls to getting married and falling in love faster than it takes time to change a pair of underwear.

Bending down, I’m grabbing my loofah out of my shower caddy when the door opens. Hurrying I cover myself, embarrassed, assuming one of the boys has walked in on me naked as the day I was born.

“It’s me.” I look over my shoulder and see Ben come into the small space, shutting the door and closing us in.

“Ben, I’m almost done, give me a minute.” I hurry and lather up my body, wanting to create some distance between him and I because the tension building feels like it will spill over any minute and lead to an even bigger fight.

I start to rinse when his chest touches my back. I turn and he’s standing there naked. I don’t know what to do or how to react when he’s this close to me with his sad sorry eyes—I almost want to give in.

“I fucked up and got way too shit-faced last night. You didn’t deserve me calling you a prude.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a prude compared to the types of women you slept with before me. Sorry I’m not up to par.” I turn again and drop my head, regretting what I just said and letting him see he’s affecting me. Not only was what he said hurtful, but those words struck a nerve in me and had me swarming with insecurities. I’ve tried to be the rock star’s wife, tried to be the sexual character he’s needed, but still trying to keep my identity.

My religion and the way I live my life are still important to me. I still want to cover my body and hide it from everyone then I want to show it off to Ben. I want to be more experienced in the bedroom, but I’m new to this and I’m not used to acting like an experienced sexual deviant, if you will. It may be okay since we’re married, but it still feels brand new and it weakens me.

The things he said last night shined a light on me and put me in a corner. For the first time Ben didn’t make me feel worshipped, he made me feel inadequate, like he always said he wouldn’t.

“You are, I didn’t mean it like that. I was drunk and I said stupid shit. Please don’t be upset with me.” He grabs my hips and what little space I have to move into I do, cutting off physical contact.

“You can’t just say something, then say you didn’t mean it. It doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know. Please, what can I do to make this right?”

“You can figure that out Ben, but for now let me have some space.” I climb out and grab my towel. Covering myself in my silk robe, I leave him in the shower to think about how much he hurt me. I decide to call Kate and complain to her while I get ready for the day. I need the release and much needed girl time.

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