It is uncomfortably quiet in this room. Almost like I can feel the silent waves tickling up the back of my neck. You sit on one side of the couch and I’m on the other. We don’t mention the large gap between us.

I’m sure the therapist across from us notices. From the incessant scribbling she’s doing in her notepad, I’d say she’s already writing a think piece on us. And all she’s asked us so far are our names and how long we’ve been together.

Couples counseling. It’s something you suggested and I begrudgingly agreed. Not that I don’t want to salvage our relationship, I’m just busy and hate people invading my personal business. But I don’t want to lose you, so I’m here.

We’ve been together for two years and up until 4 months ago, it had been a dream. But then we started fighting. I’m still not even really sure what about, just that there was a lot of it. Enough to bring us to our breaking point.

This is our relationships last resort.

“So… How’s your guys’ sex life?” The therapist finally speaks up, and now I wish the silence could’ve stayed.

“Nonexistent,” I mutter under my breath, but I know you both heard my petty grumble.