Crystal Ball

Slow dancing, I listen to the wood wick candle until it sizzles to a stop. The needle drops on the vinyl and Tina Turner begins "rolling, rolling, rolling down the river."

I always loved the first half of this song, but loathed the over orchestrated second half. When it comes, I break away from her and turn it off.

While typically this should be romantic, I can't help but feel extremely cliche' and used. She always loved this, but I felt more romantic with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Some of her lipstick has streaked the collar or my two dollar Hanes t-shirt.

So that's how that happens?

I always wondered in media when you see the boring housewife discover the lipstick stained collar of her playboy husband, if it was actually manageable or completely blown out of proportion.

Tomorrow marks our five year anniversary. To her it's another reason to takes lots of pictures, post them on Facebook, and make it more about her than us.

To me, it's just another day reminding me of my choices. I always reflect on our past and think about the bad more than the good. I would never compare it to being trapped, but rather tricked . Before, there was more of an emphasis on our senses. Now it's a struggle to out-do each other. We've become cookie cutter romantics.

She thinks she's being clever by skipping her birth control but every night before bed I lock myself in the bathroom with a Rolling Stone, sit on the can, and count those mother fuckers.

It's bad enough figuring out this world but to teach an offspring, who is from the same flesh and blood, is horror.

When you really think about conception and the birthing process, it can really mess with your head. Ever since I saw a simulated conception video in junior high I become eerily traumatized. Staring at the enlarged sperms weaving toward an egg with their spirally tails whipping to and fro put a wiccan curse on my penis until age 22.

A baby's head piercing through a bloody, gaping, vagina until it's followed by after-birth entrails. The miracle of life. A beautiful moment for families every where. And after the baby is wiped of all the shit and blood you are handed this alien looking object that instantly shrills and tries to get away from you.

I don't get it. Everyone tells me I will once I'm a father, but lucky for me I think before I cum and practice the pull out method.