Weddings are expensive as shit. Upwards of $20,000, average, and meanwhile all of your college “friends” are sucking up the free food and drinks like prohibition is coming back. You could put a down payment on a house but OH WAIT, all that money is at some ritz hotel who still prepares your mashed potatoes from shit that comes in a bag, so fuck you.
Consummate consummate consummate, pregnancy test, positive, tell your husband, tell your family, tell your husbands family, tell your friends, guilt a friend into planning a baby shower, preparation, calculation, financial struggle, doctor’s appointment, baby shower, sonogram, pain, weight gain, mood swings, more pain, joy, joy, pain, joy, pictures, clothing, gifts, pain, pain, HOLY FUCKING SHIT SO MUCH PAIN, relief.
Hospital bills, intense fear of creating a homicidal maniac, depression, cooking, cleaning, diaper changing, bills, cooking, cleaning, diaper changing, bills, pictures, cooking, cleaning diaper changing bills, arguments, arguments, WELL I WORKED NINE HOURS WITH AN HOUR LUNCH BREAK IN THE MIDDLE SO FUCK YOU AND YOUR DISHES, proposition for sex, deny, guilt, do it every. single. fucking. day.
Divorce is statistically inevitable. And you’re a broken mess of what you used to be. You used to paint, write poetry, take long walks, romanticize the cute intellectual, become bummed when his gorgeous girlfriend stopped by after work. You used to read too, maybe sing, see sunlight, make plans for travel, day drink. And you stopped doing all those things you loved, and you have nothing to show for it.
Maybe the children, if they’re not homicidal maniacs.