Pearly Whites


The fluorescence of her pearly white smile contrasted best against the gloomy backdrop of our life. One-bedroom apartments didn’t usually make a bang-up job of holding things together in the longevity of family life. That being said, dreams, passions, and bright future’s were just as far away from us as tenants, as your successful attempt of breaching the friendzone was from your current reality. Lower class living had a way of suppressing the growth of potential for its inhabitants. People from such a background found their thoughts to hold substantial real estate in the deeply imaginative world of daydreams. Dreams supremely occupied by the visualization of what big city they would conquer in the future, what style of white-picket-fence they’d acquire to surround their beautiful home, and how closely knit their future family would be. I fell victim to all kinds of dreams like these, obviously after I failed to reach the NFL — — Dream #1. There were enough quarterbacks, anyway, a genuinely over-saturated position.


Tickling her tummy, distracting her from the previous question she’d asked of what we were going to eat tonight, her smile, gleaming, made my heart smile. I’d glanced over my account on the way in, and with the flush of loot towards the bicycle she’d been hoping for and the down payment earlier this week on my soon to be wife’s engagement ring, it left $12.91 in my checking account. Leaving me with an ultimatum: Save that for the Uber to and from work tomorrow, or Spend that in the hopes of feeding the bellies of those I cared about most. That’s an easy answer.


Lindsey, sporting the ring pop hunk of glam I blessed her left hand with, joined in on the assault of Lake’s tummy. A successful team effort led to the watering of eyes from the overwhelming laughter our daughter became a casualty of. Salute to a real fallen soldier of the war on frowns, a move to make America laugh again. Her serious glance brought the action of togetherness to an end; there was a parental meeting that needed o occurrence. I positioned the tiny Sargent comfortably onto the sofa and proceeded to join my fiance in our chamber.


I guided the door shut behind me, turned around, and was ambushed with immense emotion.

Blood drained from my face, my heart was yanked by gravity, and it suddenly felt as if I was aboard the titanic. It was flooded by the ambush that was spearheaded by the woman I held dearly to my most vulnerable organ, that thing that circulated the blood flow in my massive body. The closest person to my heart did so much harm to me in the matter of a few seconds.

Her ring lies naked on the throw blanket that welcomed us every night at the foot of our bed — accompanied by her tears and the distance that she created between us by moving backward toward the opposite corner of the room. I stride toward her, and the extension of her arms worked to produce the space she felt we had between us, mentally, emotionally, and relationally.


Suppressed by the range of emotions attacking my mind, heart, and soul, I became mute.

“I can’t do it. Seeing our daughter smile so ferociously made me realize how unhappy I am. Maybe it’s the days spent in this one-bedroom apartment or the lack of potential I have, being in a relationship with you. Marriage is not what I want, and closure from you isn’t either.”

I had no words to conjure up and plead my case toward whatever I’d done wrong. So, I did the next best thing.


I walked back into the living room to be transferred into the illusion of happiness, by that pearly white smile my beautiful daughter Lake often wore. I held her tight and shifted my gaze to the stupid commercials that flew across our TV. My mind occupied by everything, but the attempts made by capitalism and it’s marketing professionals.

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