Pisces in Retrograde
an excerpt

I thought about leaving Jason often. Usually in the middle of the night, when his toenails scratched against my legs or his gangly arms made their way onto my side of the bed.

The puppy still woke me up a few times every night. Other dog owners told me I should train her not to, by refusing to let her outside, but once she woke me up, then I had to pee, and since I was already up, might as well let Pisces out too. She always came to my side of the bed, because her whining couldn’t rouse Jason from his slumber. He’d sense some kind of change in the atmosphere, however, because when I returned to bed, I’d find him rolled over into the warm spot I’d vacated. Pisces would leap onto the bed and make her way to my pillow. My options were to crawl in on Jason's side, or fight with both of them. More often than not, I defiantly stood my ground: first rotating Pisces, whose butt inevitably was facing the place my head meant to be, then attempting to shove Jason, who acted like it was a great inconvenience for him to get out of the space where he didn’t belong in the first place, and that I had been occupying for the past several hours.

I’d lie awake and think mean thoughts about him, mentally list his faults and plan the kind of life I could lead without him. But when I’d wake up the next morning, the hostility behind my plans mostly would have dissipated.