“Was that my stomach or yours?”
“Huh? I didn’t hear anything.”
“Must’ve been mine,” I said.
“Didn’t you feel it?”
“You elbowed me twice last night. Do you think it’s because you come to bed hungry?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then why was your stomach growling?”
“I don’t know; I didn’t even know it was my stomach.”
“Just please, try not to elbow me.”
“I’ll do my best,” I replied, rolling over and staring at her, lying on her back, gazing into her phone. Underneath the comforter, I reached over and placed my hand on her stomach. A few moments passed in silence.
“I think Dan got dumped again,” she sighed.
“What makes you say that?”
“All the depressing crap he’s posting on facebook.”
“Ah whatever,” I grunted, rolling over on my back and casting my eyes on the ceiling.
“Are you alright?”
“It’s just pathetic. It makes me angry, that’s all.”
“People…People taking to facebook out of heartbreak or boredom. Loneliness, it’s all loneliness. It used to make me sad. Remember Brian?”
“You can’t compare Dan to Brian. Brian is a huge douche.”
“Yes, a douche, I agree; a pompous, self righteous ass, who never hesitates to remind people how many books he has read, who begins every other sentence by saying, ‘My ex and I…My ex and I are huge Olyphant fans…My ex and I went to that show…’ as if he’s constantly trying to prove to everyone that he hasn’t always been alone, that in fact, he was once in a long term relationship. We were friends for a short while, and I genuinely felt sad for him, reading his posts and watching days go by and nobody acknowledging his loneliness. No likes…Nothing. It was sad, and I, being who I am, try to picture everything. I’d picture him checking facebook periodically, waiting, hoping…Seriously sad. Oh man,” I sighed, “I remember this one time, he posted a Bukowski quote, saying, ‘This is so me.’ The quote read, ‘Don’t feel sorry for me because I am alone, for even at the most terrible moments, humor is my companion.’ I really had to try not to say anything. ‘This is so me.’ HA! I mean, why post something like that if you’re not in fact looking for sympathy? Aren’t you just trying to let the facebook world know that you are alone? It’s just sad.”
“This is pillow talk at it’s finest,” she said.
“There’s always a rant nearby,” I chuckled.
“Let it out babe; people make you sad, facebook makes you angry. As long as you don’t elbow me in your sleep, I’m cool with your rants.”
I rolled over on my side and placed my hand on her stomach once more. A few moments passed in silence. There was a turning; it could’ve been my stomach, it could’ve been the snow falling from the sky or rising from the earth. She was gazing still into her phone. Something was rapidly changing. I was going to tell her how lonesome I had been before she found me, but before I knew it, I was asleep.
That night I dreamt of two kids, my kids. I was older… Staring at them, astonished by their eyes, I knew I was dreaming, and I felt change like never before. I felt new desires wanting to be born, and I felt ashamed that I’d been so angry for all those years.