The morning is quiet and bleak. I wake up stiff and cramped. And I couldn’t be more excited that she has a dentist appointment. I waste my time waking up by falling asleep for an extra half hour in the shower. I have nothing else to do so I listen to the radio and make myself a second cup of coffee after I finish the first without a smile. If I can’t mourn for myself now how am I going learn how to stop being unhappy later on? Or at least learn to cope with the disheartening fact that I never will receive happiness.
      I read the paper for about an hour and start to somewhat enjoy certain columns and then she enters the kitchen swollen and clumpy stuffed from the soft lips out. I cringe in my mind but give her a kiss as she mumbles and drools on her black blouse. Of course it’s one color. Of course it’s void of any. So, this must be what it’s like to be married to a black hole.
      I think she says something sentimental and stupid like “I love you” as she undresses and grabs my hand and leads me to the living room couch where she turns off the radio and straddles me. I don’t have enough time to even say “me too“ as she takes my pants off and I begin to wonder if she realizes that I haven’t said it back. Lack of time or lack of emotion? She grumbles violently either due to oral or sexual discomfort. I tune out her noise and think of something else.

\\\\

      You’re reading some terrible article on some terrible athlete that did something terrible. It’s the home team. So, it’s got be important. Some song is being played through the speakers in the ceiling. It’s one of those love songs you always hear years after its debut but you can’t really remember the name of the lady that sings it. You think it was a one hit wonder. A cup of water from the bubbler in the opposite corner would be amazing right now but you can’t have any because they’re out of cups. You keep asking yourself “do I ask the lady behind the counter or do I just wait here patiently?” The pain of thirst versus the nervousness of the reaction and its consequences. The causes and effects. You keep asking yourself “does that seem annoying if I ask her for one?” And you want to kick yourself in the stomach so hard that the stench of your vomit will linger with the people that have appointments during the next few hours. You want to make their visit so unpleasant that they can’t even stay and sit in the waiting room before someone drills holes in the objects and obstacles that chew morsels and create crumbs for their stomach to digest correctly.
      Do you ask to use their bathroom? She gave you a funny look when you asked for a cup. Little kids are screaming directly across from you. You want to look them in their eyes and restore comfort through quick glances and slight nods with whimpering smirks but their wrinkles compress their eyelids together. Like a vice that’s too tight or a clamp that won’t let go of whatever it is you can imagine it holding.
      Don’t dwell on the whirring you hear from the back rooms down inside the narrow hallways. These walls remind you of home. The focus on what’s actually inside them is what brings you back to reality. Those big rigid blue plastic chairs that bend back a complete ninety degrees. The table with the twisting metallic utensils next to it. And the huge cathode ray that pumps your body full of radioactive waste to take pictures of what’s on the under side of your flesh.
      Remember how good it feels when he or she stops and you get to take that swig of water?
      Watch the blood from your mouth run down the little drain.
      Look at the drop flow of red pour into the sink.
      The hook that drives itself in-between your bicuspids and premolars scrapes along your gums too hard. You keep watching the blood mix with the hydrogen and then swirl its way into the tubes. You know he or she is going to ask if you’ve been flossing? Have you? You know you should.
      He might tell you that you need braces.
      She might tell you that you have some cavities.
      And all this just after you tense up like a jack in the box and sit in that uncomfortable wooden chair and wait an extra forty five minutes for god knows what reason but don’t ask anybody about the delay because you’ve already asked for a cup and to use the bathroom. “I can’t wait to come back in this hospitable environment” you say sarcastically to yourself. Look kid, these guys get paid to dig and claw into the confines of your mouth for a living. They’re not exactly bozo the clown. Or are you scared of both equally?

she)(did your dentist ever use that enamel stuff on you when you were younger
he)(yah the crunchy stuff the stuff you spit away with your water
she)(yah that stuff did they ever use it
he)(they still use it
she)(really what flavor
he)(strawberry maybe apple mint i cant really remember
she)(its never anything good like icecream flavors
he)(its the dentist its not fucking ben and jerrys

      I wonder if people expect this when they decide to get married. The mundane and misguided realism of the whole situation this time makes me too queasy to continue breathing. Even her smile is routine. There was never a sparkle. Just sort of a mutual-respect-internal-contract we both signed when we first held hands. I’m constantly catching myself saying “how did it come to this?”
      Is this me happy or is this me pretending to be happy?
      I constantly catch myself saying “why does this always seem to happen to me?”
      I wonder if deciding to get married has any decent expectations at all. Any great fortitudes or advantages other than a few measly benefits and the chance to spill your seed. She could be pregnant right now and is refusing to tell me. I have to admit it’d give me a jump start for christ sakes. Some sort of excitement. When did lenience and laziness suddenly become the same thing? Lethargic and liveliness?
      I could fall asleep in her arms naked. But the only reason I’m naked is because we’re having sex and the only reason I’m falling asleep is because I’m aligned next to her. I just caught myself saying “how the fuck did it come to this?” again.

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