Total Christmas fiction. Reader warning — Macabre.

I’m Almost Certain I’m Allergic to My Boyfriend’s Face

We are married now

He was so handsome. And I loved his arse in those … Photo by Riley McCullough on Unsplash

I look at pictures of High School and still feel something. But the magic has gone. He lowered the drawbridge. And I moved in. Suddenly the moat began to stink.

You know how you hate telling people you hate tomato, because they always say:

“Who doesn’t eat tomatoes”

So you say “I’m allergic to tomato” instead, to shut the peanut gallery up. Well, I’m pretty certain I’m allergic to my boyfriend’s face now. We’ve been married 5 years now.

I say boyfriend, because I cannot admit to the word husband.

How do I know I’m allergic, I don’t have any pictures of us past our marriage day. I cannot look at his face. I refer to him in my head as my boyfriend. It makes the relationship easier to digest.

When I eat tomato, the skin makes me involuntarily retch and gag. And when I see my boyfriend’s face, I gag now. I love the look of a tomato and the idea of it, but I can’t have it near me.

Unless it’s cooked.

I feel the same way about Chad. I used to love Chad. His muscular body in his football strip. His cleats clattered…