Life's Decisions

“Have you decided?”

“I guess so.”

“This is not a time for guessing.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple. Make up your mind.”

“Okay, hear me out. The consequences can be so important.”

“We’ve been over it a hundred times. What’s going to change?”

“Will you please just listen?”

“Oh God, that’s like when you ask, does this make me look fat.”

“Well, it matters. I don’t want to have everyone staring at me.”

“True, but then you’re unhappy that no one noticed you.”

“You just don’t get it.”

“I know it matters to you. I just never know the right answer.”

“There isn’t a right answer. There’s a loving answer.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus.”

“Now let me think. One is full of hormones. The other one is full of mercury.”

“So?”

“Well, what would you choose?”

“It doesn’t matter what I’d choose. My choice doesn’t affect yours.”

“You must be feral. How are we supposed to be a couple when you can’t see how we have to work together?”

“What? Stop being so emotional about this and decide.”

“Emotional? Is that what you think? I’m emotional? Where do you think my love for you comes from, a cereal box?”

“That’s not what I mean?”

“It is. You claim to be so rational but don’t realize the world is made of more colors than black and white.”

“I’m sorry. No, really, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’ve tried so hard to understand you.”

“No, you haven’t. You’ve tried so hard to make me into something I’m not.”

“We wouldn’t be together if I didn’t love the person you are.”

“See. It’s always about you. You make decisions for us and blame me when things don’t go as planned.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. I didn’t choose any of this, and now I’m supposed to make a final decision.”

“That’s because you always say, I don’t know, whatever you want.”

“Well, I want you to be happy. I love making you happy.”

“I love making you happy, too, but you’re never happy, so I make the choices I want.”

“That’s selfish. We must be comfortable with one another’s poor choices and not blame one another. That’s the sign of a healthy relationship.”

“I suppose you’re right. But why can’t we both get what we want?”

“We can, but that means giving one another room to decide. You’re so afraid I won’t make the right choice, and I’m so afraid you’ll fly off the handle.”

“I don’t fly off the handle. I’m just passionate about us.”

“Like when you flipped the table over, that was passion?”

“What was I supposed to do? The damn tablecloth was on fire.”

“See. You’re doing it again. Please don’t swear at me.”

“I didn’t.”

“You said, damn.”

“Oh, for the love of God, I was referring to the tablecloth.”

“Lower your voice. People will hear you.”

“I’ll lower my voice when you decide.”

“Ultimatums. That’s not love. That’s not respect. That’s bullying.”

“Five, four, three, two…”

“Now, you’re counting down. I’m not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one and decide.”

“If you’re going to be like this, then I choose to go home.”

“You can’t. At least not yet. Now decide.”

“Alright, but I don’t want to hear another word.”

“It’s so damn loud in here, I’d be happy to shut up. Please decide. People are starting to stare.”

“Alright, but you choose first. That way, we can switch if we’re not happy.”

“So you want the opposite of what I want?”

“No, I want the same things you want. That’s how couples come together.”

“Then let me choose for both of us.”

“You’re doing it again, discounting my feelings because you think you know what we want.”

“What if I said I don’t want to choose? What would you do?”

“Well, obviously, I’d get what I want since you don’t want anything.”

“But I do want something. I just want to know what you want.”

“Do you even listen to me?”

“I swear by all that is holy, I listen to you. Now, please, make a decision.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m a little frustrated that you are taking so damn long.”

“You’re swearing again.”

“I’m not. Damn is not a swear word.”

“Any word is a swear word when you use it to put others down.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“You always do this. I struggle to decide, so you think it’s your responsibility to decide for me.”

That’s not what I mean. I can’t continue this conversation.”

“This isn’t a conversation. This is one person forcing another to do something they may or may not want to do.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Did you take your medication?”

“Yes, I took my medicine. What do you take me for an idiot?”

“I’m going to the restroom. Whatever you decide, I want the other.”

“If you leave now, it will be an hour or more before you return.”

“If I don’t leave now, the next person who sits here will be pissed.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Now, please, for all the martyrs in purgatory, decide.”

“Well, since you’re so anxious to leave, I guess what I choose doesn’t matter. You won’t be here to enjoy it with me.”

“I will be here. I can go the other way.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“You know I would.”

“Oh, this is so difficult. I should have thought more about this before we got here.”

“I know. But think of it this way. We won’t even remember this decision a year from now.”

“You make a great point. We shouldn’t let ourselves get so worked up.”

“You’re right. You always are. So, have you decided?”

“What are the choices again?”

“Hormones or Mercury?”

“Hormones are why I take my medicine, and I’ve heard bad things about mercury.”

“You know best.”

“I think I’ll have the chicken.”

‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re all out of the chicken. All I have left is the fish.”