I'm in a relationship with my doctor. Not in a romantic way, but in all the ways that's frowned upon. It's a silly little deranged, yet strange arrangement and it all started with her doings and continued with mine. I guess it's like most relationships, in that regard.
Every fortnight, before we sin, I go see her, book a long appointment, 25 minutes, and we speak for the first 5.
How you been?
Yes, good thank you,
How are you?
Good thank you.
Then I tell her, how I feel numb, how all faces that walk past me feel hollow, how the faces look empty, how no one looks at me.
"You are severely low in vitamin D !" She tells me; "the reports came back.."
"Yeah, I've been forgetting to take the pills.."
I told her. We fucked.
On my way back, on the tram, all the faces looked empty. As they do. Even in the reflections, I could see nothing, just hollow features, and glistening skin. Only shadows suggested where eyes, noses, mouths, and ears used to be. All empty , hollow with dread.
"There's a worm in your brain.." she told me. "You are going to die in 3 months, unless ofcourse, we treat you, but the treatment has to be done within 21 days.. and needless to say, the treatment is very risky, and can kill you instantly.."
Death is never slow is it? I would pay a billion dollars to die a slow death right about now, my death, as we face it, is either fast, or really really fast.. and I don't like it. I want that slow death. The normal death. Death so slow you forget it exists. Death so slow you tell yourself it's never.. going.. to happen.. to.. you...
"See, babe, life is what your make of it," she started. "Life is whatever you want it to be."
The word 'babe' rubbed me the wrong way more than any amount of rubbing alcohol can do on my uncircumcised penis. 'Babe'? Fucking kill me now. Surely the love of my life, my great love, that I'm going to hold the hand of while I drift away into the never ending abyss, the uncanny Valley, surely, it's not Dr Babe over here?
Dr. Babe.. oh, Dr Babe.. phd, masters, and MBBS.. she's got all the letters in the alphabet next to her name but not the courage to love a living man, a man who's not going to die in 3 months, a man who can't give her what she needs, no matter how hard he try, the man she can't save, no matter how she tries. Oh Dr Babe. Shut the fuck up and fuck me already.
On the tram back, I fantasised that I kill people. That I stab the silhouettes around me, living, yet they don't matter. They don't exist. They don't live, breath, or die the way I do. They don't compare. They don't compute. They don't matter. I fantasised that I kill them. I kill them all. Before they kill me.
I wonder what Dr Babe will have to say about that. I thought to myself. I wonder what vitamin I am lacking right now.
BS
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