A Relationship, of sorts.

I keep thinking I’m single. But maybe, just maybe, I’m not. After yet another trip to the dentist – which ended up not even being for what I thought it was for – I realized you could almost say I’m in a relationship with him. Oh, c’mon: he leans his leg against my arm, stares at me intently the whole time, rests his hands against my face, his fingers are always in my mouth, and every now and again when he has to reach across to get something his chest brushes against my cheek. Shouldn’t all that count? He’s cute, too. I think. I’d have to see him out of the office. And be able to recognize him. I’d know him for sure if he was upside down wearing a mask. Yeah, stew on that for a while.