Conversation

"Why exactly are you with me then," I asked with the slightest touch of bitterness. My civility had left fifteen minutes ago when she had told me again that my life lacked ambitions.
"Its not like that, I love you, but you need to do more."
"More? Like what?"
"I don't know, that's for you to decide."
We sat at the table for a few minutes in pregnant silence. Was the onus on me to ask the weighted question? To push the conversation in its inevitable direction. Why was I with her? I remember once I thought she was attractive. My mind was filled with thoughts of her. My days would be spent in a dream with my imagination running a thousand scenarios of us together. Eventually I'd asked her out. We had a small picnic in the park. It was cute. When the conversation lulled, I read her one of my favorite Haruki Marukami stories. The previous night I'd spent an hour going over the pronunciations of the different towns and cities. I worked on my dramatic reading. After a few pages she leaned into me. Our lips lightly touched, my eyes closed and I knew that the spring of our love was beginning. Now though we'd fallen into a harsh winter, an unsuspected cold. Where did this lack of emotion come from.
"Maybe I'll talk a college class."
"You always said that you'd like to be a better writer, why don't you go to the community college and take a class on writing."
"That's not a bad idea."
"What do you want to do tonight?"
"I don't know."
"Want to watch a movie?"
"Let's just have sex."
"You're so crass."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
She got up from the table wordlessly. It seemed as if for a second she was satisfied but then the void opened up again. I knew that she felt empty, incomplete, but what was I to do? Like any young man my immediate thought was to fill her cavitity with my dick.
"What can we talk about that we've never talked about before?"
"How about our favorite European country?"
"Europe?"
"Yeah, when I went traveling during my study abroad I went to Spain, France, Germany, Switzerland, Scotland..." As she trailed off her eyes went upward recollecting her adventures. She was lost in thought. When we first were together her tendency to daydream aroused me. That was something seductive about her imagination, as we got to know each other more I realized that her memory was poor.
"I never went to Europe," was my flat reply.
"Oh, right, but we can still have the conversation."
"How can I like somewhere I've never been before?"
"You can imagine it, or I can describe the country. Pick a country I'll depict it."
"I can't live through you, I can't make my choices through your interpretations."
"But you do it all the time, when I suggest a movie you usually agree."
It was my turn for silence. I stood up and went to the bedroom. I laid down on the bed and began to fantasize. I could hear her in the other room, clicking away at the keyboard. A half an hour later she began watching television.