After my car accident,
after I stayed down so as not to overwhelm Eeyore,
after you threatened to kill yourself,
you proposed
in a parking lot.
You promised to cook me
vegetarian meals.
A marriage counselor told us
to get an annulment.
The annulment was annulled.
I got another year older.

When I said we should get divorced,
I had a panic attack
and kicked a hole in the wall
that subdued me long enough
to be apathetic, lazy, dependent, and fat.
You think that being silly
will make up for everything
this relationship lacks.

I've taken off my ring many times.
I'm not allergic to it like fake meat
or my Apple watch pedometer,
but you've stayed through thick bacon and thin bacon
while you worried about the lives of my Chinese sign,
so I convince myself
that you're a catch,
that you love me unconditionally,
and I'm ungrateful for having my car totaled
and my drive towed.
We wanted it bad for years,
so we got it bad
with thirty pounds of carbohydrated fat
in my womb,
all for the want of a comforting, squeezable hug.

12/16/2019

Author's Note: Written during a period of bipolar depression

Posted on 12/16/2019
Copyright © 2024 Ame Ai