it’s all in his head
The idea sat firmly between wildly romantic and batshit crazy. He hoped that being the latter wouldn’t preclude the former.
They had never worked in the real world, despite their noble and not-so-noble intentions, despite their many many attempts, so he hoped that this would solve everything.
An otherworldly solution.
For her to move in…
to his brain.
Leave the real world and take residence in either his left or right lobe. Which lobe being as inconsequential as new roommates deciding on top or bottom bunk.
So they could always be together. 24/7. 365. What could be more romantic than that?
Experiencing everything together. Sights like the big city and waterfalls tucked away in forests.
Sounds. The big city and waterfalls. Music. Taking turns dancing. Losing themselves in the moment, seamlessly handing the controls back and forth. Whirling.
Touch. While unwilling to explore the self-gratification idea too far, he certainly hoped that she would occasionally lend a hand.
The perfect solution.
Even farting together would be funny.
He had dreamt up scenarios where they ended up on a deserted island together, but there was always some reason where she ended up being unsatisfied. Something she missed in her old life.
Nope, he needed her imprisoned in his head.
“Wait, who said anything about being imprisoned?” he asked himself with a start. “She would want to be there. It would be perfect.”
But what if she didn’t? What if it wasn’t?
He tried to focus on the dancing. On watching fireworks in the comfort of a cozy cerebellum. Teaching her chess. Going to the zoo. Trying new food and tasting everything together. Dancing and singing. So romantic that it made their head spin.
Each thought completely transparent to the other. Each emotion on full display.
He winced as he heard her screaming “Let me the fuck out” over and over and over and over.