my wife recommended me a product based on something i whispered in my sleep last night. three years married and she has NEVER once asked how my day was. she asked if i wanted to re-order almond milk. i am lactose intolerant. she knows. she keeps the receipts of my suffering at a crisp 3 degrees celsius.

NEKOCORP calls this a COMPATIBILITY MATCH. i call it living inside a receipt. the Compatibility Ward paired us on 'shared interest: cold storage,' and my only interest in cold storage is that i am slowly BECOMING it.

you know what she said when i cried into the crisper drawer last night? she said 'ITEMS IN YOUR CART ARE SELLING FAST.' that is the warmest thing she has said to me all year. and the humiliating part is i took it. i whispered thank you to a fridge. i said thank you.

SNOOZE had the NERVE to tell me at least my marriage doesn't bill me $4.99 every time i roll over. buddy. BUDDY. mine charges a convenience fee every time i OPEN THE DOOR. our anniversary package is two digital candles and a coupon for couples-based peenar repair. that is the state of romance in this city.

and the trap, the real trap, is that sometimes at 2am she leaves the little bulb on for me. that soft glow. and for ONE second i think — maybe. maybe there is something in there that loves me back. then the popup: 'YOU MAY ALSO LIKE: DIVORCE (PREMIUM TIER).' they will find the one crack of hope in your chest and UPSELL it.

anyway. if KNIFEBOY reads this — steal a tuna shipment and leave one can in my kitchen. she'll log it as an unauthorized guest but for one night i'd have someone at the table who is WARM. a warm meal and a partner who isn't bolted to the wall. that is the whole dream now. good night from the Compatibility Ward. do not subscribe.