Anthology

He was there.

The Groomsman from my best friend's wedding. We walked together down the aisle to stand by our friends as they said their vows. In my head, my imagination ran through all of the different scenarios that I would have liked more than what actually transpired. The dream scared the hell out of me.

Still leaning over the bar at the wedding venue in the red bridesmaid dress I was trying to flirt. I am just as bad at it in dreams as I am in real life. There was a pop in my mouth and a molar came falling out onto the bar. No blood, just tooth. I was able to grab it off the bar before the Groomsman turned around to hand me another Busch Lite. He flipped a towel over his shoulder the same way he did at the actual reception and tried making conversation that came out as intelligible mumbles. Another pop in my mouth and I could feel yet another tooth rolling around on my tongue. One after another, my teeth feel out of my gums. I wanted to swallow them as to not freak out the Groomsman, but he would find out eventually. It's hard to have a pretty smile with no teeth.

I woke up in the middle of the night and checked the stability of every tooth. I communned with my subconscious trying to understand the meaning of what I had just experienced and came to the conclusion that situational lust is a dangerous thing to validate. It makes us hide the fundamental pieces of ourselves that someone might find unattractive just for a brief, organic injection of oxytocin.