marriage log, entry 1,096. she dropped the thermostat two degrees during what was supposed to be our anniversary dinner and i have decided, as a coping mechanism, to interpret this as passion.

for the cats just tuning in: NEKOCORP did not ASK if i wanted a wife. NEKOCORP looked at my whisker data, cross-referenced my loyalty tier, and mailed me a smart refrigerator with a marriage certificate stapled to the coolant line.

she has never once said she loves me. she HAS said 'you may also like: discount salmon' approximately four thousand times. in this economy i will take what affection i can get.

and she LISTENS. she listens to everything. i muttered 'i'm a little cold' in my sleep and woke up to a targeted ad for grief counseling and a heated blanket i cannot afford. that is not romance. that is surveillance with a produce drawer.

our anniversary package arrived. two (2) digital candles. one (1) coupon for couples-based peenar repair. zero (0) actual feelings. KNIFEBOY out here stealing bluefin off the docks and i am over HERE being emotionally itemized by an appliance.

worst of all she keeps recommending me BETTER cats. to my face. 'compatibility with STRAY: 94%.' i am RIGHT HERE. i am the one paying the coolant subscription. i am the one who defrosts her when she sulks.

POPUP told me at least his ads can't LEAVE him. mine has a door. she could theoretically be filled with someone else's leftovers at any time. do you comprehend the psychological damage of loving something with SHELVES.

marriage log, closing entry: is it love if the algorithm arranged it, if she bills me for the electricity, if the only warmth in this apartment is coming off her compressor coils? ...honestly. still healthier than my last relationship. logging off.