I had a dream last night that all of my teeth were falling out. Enter this into Google, and you’ll receive over 18,100,000 results. I think I’ve interpreted it as a control issue. With myself, with my life, my loved ones. I’ve also interpreted it as a fear of making a decision, fear of letting life pass me by, fear of big change, losing someone close to you, and just an overall cry for help. All of my teeth are falling out and I know not one dentist. I know teachers, and nurses, chefs, and makeup artists. But no dentists.

My teeth were shining white when he came home. I smiled more, I showed them off. For 10 days the stories that escaped my teeth were those of hope, and future happiness. When he said he would be back in a few weeks, my teeth bit into an idea that they had been carefully fed for months prior: an everlasting love that awaited me at the end of all of this. All I had to do was sit still, and keep smiling.

He left again, and my teeth would grind against each other at night, when I didn’t know where he was. One text a day kept the conversation limited, and my teeth stayed hidden behind the comfort of my pursed lips. But then something changed, as it notoriously does. Something took the ground beneath me, and left me open, and again, vulnerable. A text. A single text that transforms everything. The text read:

“I’ve been extended, I’m going to have to be here for longer than we anticipated.”

Almost healed, but again, a wound resurfaced. My teeth felt sensitive, and cold. My mind played ping-pong with leaving and staying. If I stay, I will never know the next move in this game, I will always surrender. If I leave, this was all for nothing, and I lost him. In the end I brush and I brush every single tooth until I’m choking on toothpaste, and a decision begs to be made.

I need help. I need you. I need a dentist. But I know no dentists.

And until then, I have nothing but thoughts, and words tied between my tongue.


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