Adapting To Him Is Harder Than I Thought It Would Be

Trapped and poor I agreed to marry an older man and keep house and all that. He is twenty six years older than me and calls me honey, sweety, Nina, baby. He shushes me, tells me I'm too young to know, when I get older he will explain it to me. I have to go to school because if not I'm wasting my life away. I get an allowance and he pays all the bills, even for things my allowance is for.

I am taking cooking lessons in addition to school, another life skill I need to master if I really want to be the girl he wants me to be. He likes me to wear nice but conservative clothes. I don't drink anymore, and forget about anything stronger. I never mention any of my prior dating life. I have to go to the doctor every six months, dentist, he wants me healthy 'because you never know' I might become pregnant. I've lost twenty pounds since I got married and I'm looking more and more like one of those fit girls at the gym.

My house is modern and open. He collects art, that's how I met him. I'm a frustrated artist and 'starving' was my middle name. Now I am buying 'stuff' right and left from artist like I was. I can't help it. I know I can't save everyone. Any form of alcohol or substance abuse, smoking or emotional disorder and I can't get involved with them, no matter how much it grabs at my heart. He lets me help deserving artist but only from behind their back, no name recognition.

I have a friend Maya who he is picking up the bill for rent and medicines and doctors and rehab. She doesn't have insurance and she fell down some stairs. She is staying with us until she can take care of herself. It is going to be a while so we have to be patient.

One day I hadn't eaten in a week, except trash food from a restaurant they put in the trash. Now I'm so rich I don't know what to do. I wish I was mature enough for him, but maybe I never will. I can't catch up twenty five years, I'll always be Nina to him and he will be Mr. Jones to me.