Now I know why people cry at weddings

“Oh don’t fucking tell me that.” he slammed his fist on the table and looked away. She looked at him scrubbing the plate clean with her anger.
“Yeah, he was better than you, he fucked me so good,” she was grinning wildly now and basking in the pain that shot off him like rays of light.
“I SAID STOP FUCKING TALKING.” he erupted onto his feet and clenched his fists. She looked him up and down and laughed menacingly.
“What are you gonna do tough guy? Are you gonna hit me? You’d like that wouldn’t you, you would, you sick fuck.” she turned and continued scrubbing the plate like nothing had happend. But he stood there like a waiting bull brooding in his own anger, weighing if killing her would justify the satisfaction of it. He bottled it up walking towards the door like a ticking time bomb about to explode she looked over her shoulder at him and chuckled. He turned to her and bit his lip while his head twitched in anger, blood started to trail from his lower lip and he grabbed the doorknob and thrusted it open.
The breezy night air didn’t cool him off like he hoped it would, but it was better than in there. The stars were out tonight and he took a long hard look at them, millions of them like little cities across the galaxy begging to be heard, he lost himself in them wondering if there was life on them, people just like him. Do aliens have feelings too, do theyre little green bodies have a heart that beats inside them too, or did the creator save that for the planet earth to test out. I hope that he noticed that it was a failure, that even though it does alot of good, it does so much bad, its what makes the humans weak. He shook his head. What am I thinking, this is ridiculous. He paced a bit and walked over to his truck, he leaned his head the side of his truck on his arms. He closed his eyes and thought about Lilith. They had been happy once, real sweethearts, they have been dating for oh a while, 4 years was it? Then they got married and everything changed.
It’s the big things that change first of course, the way she acts in the morning, she acts like a wife instead of your girlfriend, how she asks if you want breakfast, its more a slave tone than to make you happy. And the way she acts about money since your sharing it 100% now, the look she gives you when you get your paycheck. And the thoughts about children and making a family that creep up on the couch when you’re trying to watch a movie. Then its the bills, you hear her stomp her foot in the kitchen when she reads the light bill was 140 dollars last month. Or that the mortage is overdue. And then its the little things that kill you. It’s the little thing that make you wish that you never got married, that make you wish you never met her. Just how she looks at you, she doesn’t see you as a man anymore she sees you as this thing that lives with her and this thing that gives her money. You become less than a person and you become money, just walking money that gives itself out and is only smiled upon for the pure and simple fact of people want to use you and thats it, they don’t love you, they want to use you. You’re in a relationship at 21, fall asleep one day and wake up. You’re 36 have 2 kids, a job you hate and a wife who doesn’t want to iron your shirts anymore along with a house that is filled with things you can’t afford and the riding mower that you had to downgrade your grandmothers care for, hello real life.
The reality of it made Eric’s body twist violently and he closed his eyes tight like in doing so would relieve him of this horrid dream, but the sound of the screen door opening brought it back to life. It was her, in a pink robe with matching slippers. Her hair was a mess and the wrinkles she had been getting shown through like the lies she spewed. They just stared at each other for what seemed like 10 minutes but in reality was about a minute and a half, there seemed be what a glimmer of what was left in their hearts but it drowned in the black oil that now filled it.
“Where’s the fucking trash.” she waddled towards him.
“I said where’s the fucking trash.” he couldn’t take it anymore, why did she have to ridicule me so. He wanted to break down and cry, or cut her head off, either one was going to happen.
“Does it look like I know?” He said emotionless as possible.
“Does it look like I care?” she rolled her eyes and dropped the trash besides him as if he would automatically put in the trashcar that lay on the otherside of his pickup truck, which he did.