You know, bringing the fun in.
Well, you'd think calling a demon from the depths of whereever demons like that come from would fill your hearts with joy and song. But instead you get doubts and resentment. Sitting back in my easy chair while Anya made spaghetti I thought back over our rendition of "I'll Never Tell" of what I happily named it before. I had actually named all the songs. I mean, technically it was my creation. I didn't actually fill our life with song, though I technically was the cause of it.
Back to Anya and I's warbling. The song itself was cheery and funny with some ok choreography. But that undercurrent hit me deep. He snores...penis got diseases....sometimes the vibe is scary. Et cetera. God, sometimes the vibe is scary. Sometimes I look at Anya and wonder if I'm making the right decision. Marrying this girl. And other times I look at her and just swoon like a sixteen year old girl. But lately, I've been too preoccupied with swooning. Out sex had gotten erratic and when we did have it, it was always as if it was programmed. No foreplay or anything. Just, get naked. Kiss a little. Bump the ol uglies. Exchange 'I love you's.' and then go to sleep unsatisfied.
Around Anya I could feel so alone sometimes. She has no idea what I'm feeling! And she's just cooking and working her way through life. Yeah, I have a job and can more or less defrost the occassional meat but I have other things to worry about. What if God forbid Anya and I turn out like my parents! Neglectful old drunks who not so secretly despise each other! What if we yell all the time and ignore I'll child. What if our child is driven to sleep at his or her best friend's house some night as I was when I was younger. After a round of dishware and china they move onto appliances. I couldn't take it! It was really after the third VCR that I had to have a seperate place to stay some nights.
And that place was Jesse's. On nights when the rents would get rowdy I'd just tuck my sleeping bag under my arm, climb through my first floor window and knock on Jesse's door so I could sleep there. And sometimes we wouldn't even go to sleep. We'd talk all night about anything and everything.
Anya and I actually don't talk that much anymore come to think of it. Except for the occasional "I made alot of money from the capitalist pigs who came into my store today." and the "I love you's." There really isn't alot of mouth to ear action between us. Our life had become routine and I was the cause of it. I knew it. She definitely knew it but wouldn't say anything. It was because of my spell and my doubts and my thoughts that our relationship gear had been switched to autopilot. Don't actually attempt to fly the aircraft, just let it go on itself until it hits a mountain. Or a divorce.
There's another thing. I don't want Anya or I to get married and then get an annulment or God forbid, a divorce! I've seen Friends! I will not become Ross! I will not be three divorces! Or one for that matter. Besides I sure as hell didn't marry a lesbian.
I was riled out of my thoughts by Anya's almost pleasant voice announcing that the spaghetti was ready. I cleared my throat and then walked over to the table where she had set our place settings. This also became a routine. I on one end of the circle, her on the other. Though it wasn't a circle, it was an oval so we did have a ways between us.
I sighed and picked up my fork twirling it around into the spaghetti watching each peace of string wrap around the metal. I looked up as Anya started to stare and then I shoved the wad of spaghetti into my mouth and smiled, chewing it up. She then smiled back and then very lady-like started into her spaghetti.
"So, Xander I made alot of money from the capitalist pigs today." She said.
My heart sank for the who knows how many-th time and I knew then and there. This wasn't going to work.
Back to Anya and I's warbling. The song itself was cheery and funny with some ok choreography. But that undercurrent hit me deep. He snores...penis got diseases....sometimes the vibe is scary. Et cetera. God, sometimes the vibe is scary. Sometimes I look at Anya and wonder if I'm making the right decision. Marrying this girl. And other times I look at her and just swoon like a sixteen year old girl. But lately, I've been too preoccupied with swooning. Out sex had gotten erratic and when we did have it, it was always as if it was programmed. No foreplay or anything. Just, get naked. Kiss a little. Bump the ol uglies. Exchange 'I love you's.' and then go to sleep unsatisfied.
Around Anya I could feel so alone sometimes. She has no idea what I'm feeling! And she's just cooking and working her way through life. Yeah, I have a job and can more or less defrost the occassional meat but I have other things to worry about. What if God forbid Anya and I turn out like my parents! Neglectful old drunks who not so secretly despise each other! What if we yell all the time and ignore I'll child. What if our child is driven to sleep at his or her best friend's house some night as I was when I was younger. After a round of dishware and china they move onto appliances. I couldn't take it! It was really after the third VCR that I had to have a seperate place to stay some nights.
And that place was Jesse's. On nights when the rents would get rowdy I'd just tuck my sleeping bag under my arm, climb through my first floor window and knock on Jesse's door so I could sleep there. And sometimes we wouldn't even go to sleep. We'd talk all night about anything and everything.
Anya and I actually don't talk that much anymore come to think of it. Except for the occasional "I made alot of money from the capitalist pigs who came into my store today." and the "I love you's." There really isn't alot of mouth to ear action between us. Our life had become routine and I was the cause of it. I knew it. She definitely knew it but wouldn't say anything. It was because of my spell and my doubts and my thoughts that our relationship gear had been switched to autopilot. Don't actually attempt to fly the aircraft, just let it go on itself until it hits a mountain. Or a divorce.
There's another thing. I don't want Anya or I to get married and then get an annulment or God forbid, a divorce! I've seen Friends! I will not become Ross! I will not be three divorces! Or one for that matter. Besides I sure as hell didn't marry a lesbian.
I was riled out of my thoughts by Anya's almost pleasant voice announcing that the spaghetti was ready. I cleared my throat and then walked over to the table where she had set our place settings. This also became a routine. I on one end of the circle, her on the other. Though it wasn't a circle, it was an oval so we did have a ways between us.
I sighed and picked up my fork twirling it around into the spaghetti watching each peace of string wrap around the metal. I looked up as Anya started to stare and then I shoved the wad of spaghetti into my mouth and smiled, chewing it up. She then smiled back and then very lady-like started into her spaghetti.
"So, Xander I made alot of money from the capitalist pigs today." She said.
My heart sank for the who knows how many-th time and I knew then and there. This wasn't going to work.