I wanted a wife, I wanted kids, I wanted a steady job.
I was tired of working at Burger King and living alone in a studio apartment, and I was almost certain I memorized ninety percent of pornstars on the internet by name.
I apologized and motioned to the basement to finish moving my things. In a hurried and almost frantic voice, she assured me that she'd take care of the rest of my things and that I should relax. We never got tired of each other, and, on our wedding day, the kiss we shared on that alter was so special that I firmly believe angels surrounded us and serenaded us with harps and trumpets as our lips connected and sparked so brightly that the entire room was illuminated.
It was a bit odd, sure, but she had been through so much excruciating sadness throughout her life that her having a psychiatric illness is something I expected. I'll leave out the details of the honeymoon as this is not a pornographic piece.
While doing so, I closed my phone by accident and realized that I never saved her number, so it was lost forever. Either she was incredibly optimistic about life or she was one of the best actors I had ever seen; either way, I was willing to take a shot. It turned out that she had some bad meetings at this particular convention herself, and wanted to take off to do something more fun.Every shot she made was perfect; the balls just sank into the pockets like each pocket was a black hole just waiting for something to trespass into its field. We continued to talk and eventually began regularly dating.Out of the seventeen games we played, I think I made around 23 shots. It was funny, because she kept apologizing for being so good. I couldn't believe it, I had actually scored a beautiful woman. The relationship moved pretty quickly and it seemed we were truly matched for each other.I asked her if she'd like my number as the session ended, and she consented. If I wanted to sit and stare at a wall, I would have stayed home. She told me that the cancer was entwined with her lineage, dating back as far as the eighteenth century; therefore, in numerous fits of emotional rage, her ex husband blamed her for giving the children cancer and left.I flipped open my phone and entered her number as she read it out. Too pained by the loss of her entire family, she moved to the city a few weeks ago and was living on unemployment, unable to continue working at her job due to the crippling depression and panic she suffered as a result of her abandonment.She tossed me an invite and, seeing as I was a lonely 32 year old man, she didn't have to ask twice.