I’m tired. Very tired. Seven hours of slightly-alcohol filled sleep. But I’m getting sort of exhausted writing about how I’m tired every morning. I think it should just be one of those ‘givens’ that everyone talks about. From now on, if I announce I'm writing in the morning, assume I am tired. It is in the data structure.

Last night I had some pretty odd dreams. I’m running around a hospital, through hallways with marble-tiled floors. I finished an appointment and a doctor declared that I'm in perfect health. Suddenly the scene switches to slow-motion and I’m falling, falling, falling until my head hits the ground and I’ve passed out.

When I wake up I’m in an operator’s chair. Not like “I’m about to fly a plane or conduct a form of public transportation” operator, but rather “Some dude is about to cut me open.”

There’s some kind of problem with my mouth and jaw. Mine are missing. I don’t really understand the details on this point, except in my dream the emotion is very strong: This is serious business. I will end up deformed and crippled for the rest of my life. I will never have sex again. The accident has rendered me unfuckable. I’m lucky to be alive, but also terrified.

The dream ends with me examining what appears to be my new lower jaw before it is installed on my face. Made out of black obsidian, I find it strangely beautiful – polished chin and teeth created by god knows who or what. It is right before my eyes. One of the lower incisors is neon green and stands out visually, with studded flecks of black. Another tooth is bright orange but somewhat translucent. I see something floating in the middle, like a cat’s eye marble.

It's so beautiful that I start crying but I can’t really cry properly because, until it is attached, I have no lower jaw to move my mouth with. I work some of the internal muscles for crying but the faucets don't turn on. I am missing the required parts.

Ari was here last night. He was very easy going. I’m grateful that he came out to see me instead of insisting that I come into the city, which I may well have refused to do, based on the Lisa policy of “What do you owe him? Nothing!” Because it makes life easier. I felt a little bit bad that he came all the way in to see me – like he did all the work during sex and still didn’t come or something – but whatever. Hopefully it is something that he actually wanted to do. I had fun, anyways. Ari’s a fun guy.

He’s smart, he’s fit, he’s got a steady job, and he’s socially and politically aware. I don’t know what else you can say about a person. Actually I can. He’s got a pretty good sense of humor. You can’t offend him. He would die for this country. He would probably die for another cause as well, as long as you convinced him of its importance.

We had a few really good conversations about relationships. He finally told me the story of he and Andie. I had never heard it all – to that point I'd only caught snips from Cal here and there.

They’d been together four years. Engaged the last one. Met in grad school. She moved to Atlanta because Ari’s job was out there, and she sort of settled down and got a job, started to get comfortable.

He spoke of a few key points in their relationship: Comfort and a feeling of disconnectedness.

We were comfortable together. Hell, we’re still comfortable together, if you want to know. When we meet up or something, its easy to interact. But, do you know how there are certain people where, when you look into their eyes, you know what they’re thinking? We never had that. There was a lot of misunderstanding, and that misunderstanding would lead to arguments, fights, friction.

The accident didn’t really help. We were engaged a few months before the accident, and up to that point I was feeling stronger about getting married than Andy was. She seemed kind of lukewarm about the whole thing. Then, after the accident, our roles reversed. I had more difficulty trusting her. But she wanted to get married more and more. She started pressing me, hard. When people press me like that, I don't know. It's a huge turnoff. I want to run away.

The accident he described was crazy. Flipped over in their civic, twice, on the highway, ending up on the opposite side. The side where there’s, you know, oncoming traffic and shit. Ari broke his leg. Andy got a concussion. And their relationship just got a lot of added strain and tension added to it. (I’m trying to think of how I would feel if Lisa got into an accident with me in the car. Answer: Not good. I’d always blame her. Always. I don’t honestly think I would ever get over it – and I can tell you that without it even actually happening. I would feel like it meant something about her, like it told me that she was careless and inattentive, like the crash was communicating a deep secret about her personality all the while seeming to hint at the future, a future in which we would crash again and again and it would always be her fault)

Anyhow, that’s that. I have to get to work.