I was tired of being lonely so I took matters into my own hands. I started dating her because I craved a special someone in my life.
She is not like the other girls. She likes to sit still and rust while the others go dancing. She enjoys nuts and bolts while the others prefer spaghetti and meatballs.
We walk together in the park. Clang clang, she goes, clang clang. She needs more oil. I drip some on her hips. All better.
My friends jeer when they see us coming. They do not understand. They have never been lonely.
We climb the hill. She falls. We laugh. Her laugh is the sound of opening a can of beans. I love it.
I bring her home for Thanksgiving. She is silent on the bus.
We walk through the front door. Mom and Dad seem disappointed. They were hoping I would bring home a real girl. I tell them they’re ignorant and brush by them. We walk into the dining room and she sits. Clang clang.
“How are you?” my parents ask. She does not respond. They are offended.
We retreat to the bedroom. I hear what sounds like a car accident. It’s just her. She stubbed her toe on my bedroom door. How cute.
We make love for the first time. I touch her breast and it is cool and cone-shaped. I enter her and it is cold inside.
I chafe but it is worth it. I am no longer lonely. She tastes like metal. She is made of metal.
I propose to her the next day. She says nothing.
I stand next to the priest as she walks down the aisle. Her father holds her arm. He is a furnace.
We have kids. They are cyborgs. They are in constant pain.
One day I call for her in the kitchen. She does not respond. Typical. I walk in and see she has fallen and lost her head. There are screws everywhere. I am sad.
The next day I go to bury her. A woman grieving a lost one looks at me.
“This is a graveyard” she says. “You can’t dump that here”. I tell her she is ignorant and find a spot in the forest. I sit the body on a stump.
I visit her years later and find chipmunks have made a home in her torso. I tell them they are ignorant.
I am lonely again.