Mind of a boyfriend

Wake Up

I do” she said. My face went pale and my thoughts froze. How could she say that to me. After everything I had done. The work I had put in. Not to mention the time I had invested in her. How could she agree to a divorce. Was I that bad a husband (well I probably was, who the hell asks her wife if she wants a divorce). Her sharp words brought out the monster in me. I started shaking, sweating. I could taste my anger. I yelled in a language I didn’t know. In my fury,I slapped her. She hit her head on the kitchen divider.The kitchen was a bad place to argue so I realized. I looked at the knife drawer. I was going to kill her.Then I heard a soft sweet voice. It just said to “wake up love,you are having a bad dream again”.It was Amanda,my world,my wife.

“Her sharp words brought out the monster in me. “

This was the third time this week. The dreams were becoming more brutal and vivid. Was I a monster within?. I love my wife, I wouldn’t want to harm her.She is all I have. I was orphaned at the age of 5 and raised in a farm by a loving old couple. They too,are now late. Amanda is the very fabric of my existence , without her I’m nothing. I needed to get therapy before I unconsciously hurt the only thing I lived for.I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. I watched her sleep until the sky gave birth to the sun.

She was perfection. Her big beautiful eyes made me fall in love every time I looked at them. Even in her sleep. The moonlight brushed her face, highlighting her birthmark on her left cheek. It looked like a rose, I believe God was showing off. Her sculptured masterpiece body lay next to me. Her breasts as firm as an adolescent.She is a goddess to me. The thought of losing her made a tear or two escape my weary eyes.


The sky’s labor finally ended and a bouncing ball of light blinded my puffy eyes as I opened the curtains. My zombified spin cracked as I stretched then a cloud of toxins came out of my mouth as I yawned. I could smell the stench of Monday as I opened the windows. I hate Mondays, they are like Sunday’s cousins who eat your food and break your toys. Not that I had cousins like that. Mine were worse. Point is it was Monday and I hated it. After last night’s episode therapy was what I needed. (And a shot of J & B with a thin slice of lemon on the side). Amanda’s angelic voice touched my soul as she woke up. ( she mumbles some gibberish stuff when she wakes up and in our 7 years of marriage I’ve concluded that it means good morning ). I didn’t respond, I just looked out the window.

Momentarily she was right behind me ,hugged me and joined in the gazing. The silence was deafening but her warm hands were soothing. The moment was ruined by our systematic allegiance to the hand that fed us. We had to shower for work. Well she had to. I worked at home .And the rest of the day was pure confusion.

Maybe I had a double life. Dreams could be a whole different dimension where we exist as the visions we see. What if dreams are an alternative reality to the one we leave, a negative reality. I hated my self. I thought about committing suicide and the thought of Amanda’s broken soul wiped that stupid idea away. I was soo distant to a point where I almost dosed off then Lessy stormed in my office… panting like the bitch she was. She was a beautiful sassy Chihuahua. I sometimes mistake it for a teddy bear but Mandy loves her and doctors think I need a therapy dog. Things doctors and prophets say can be awkward. Anyways I will just end it all. I need to liberate Amanda.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

× Ask a Boyfriend
%d bloggers like this: