Honey, I Think We Should Consciously Uncouple

Come, sit down, lover. This is going to be a hard conversation for both of us.

It’s time we consciously uncouple.

I know this is difficult; I still remember when we first consciously coupled. I vividly recall that day. We were both conscious, I remember, because our eyes were both open, and we were both breathing, and neither of us was in a coma.

“Should we couple?” you asked.

I checked for your pulse and other vital signs to make sure you were really conscious. And then I asked you to do the same for me.

“You are conscious,” you said. I liked your confidence.

“You are also conscious,” I said, blushing.

“Then should we couple?” you asked. “…Consciously?”

“Yes,” I said. “Let’s couple.”

Then we checked each other’s vital signs again and we kissed. Both of us completely possessed the use of all of our physical senses and were able to process the various sensory inputs around us.

My friends were so excited for us. They asked me what it was like, consciously coupling.

“It was like, we decided to start dating, and both of us were under our full mental faculties, undulled by sleep, faintness, or stupor,” I would tell them. It sounds corny, but it was a quote from Merriam-Webster. Sometimes the dictionary is the most beautiful poet there is, don’t you agree?

Years went by. We were coupled for all of them, conscious for most. That’s the way all relationships go, I guess: Coupled for all of it, conscious for most.

And look, we made some great memories. Remember the third anniversary of our Conscious Coupling? The Conscious Coupling Cookie Cake? The Conscious Coupling kaffeeklatsch? The Conscious Coupling Kit Kat candy cane cappuccino? What a day.

It’s clear, however, that this conscious coupling needs to end. It’s time that we consciously uncouple. No, no, don’t slip off into an unresponsive state — I need you to hear this, so that it is officially a conscious uncoupling.

We are going to uncouple, and I would rather you be conscious than unconscious. But unconscious or conscious, we are going to uncouple. So if you need to be unconscious for the uncoupling, then be unconscious, because the uncoupling is coming, consciously or unconsciously, for you.

Hear this: “We are uncoupling.” There, I’ve said it. I see that your eyes are open, and you appear to be breathing, and you are crying, which are all signs of consciousness. But just to make sure that you are indeed conscious, I am now going to throw my car keys at your face, to ensure that you are responding to external stimuli.

Okay, I think that was a twitch. I’m going to call it a conscious uncoupling, based on your reaction to the keys hitting your face. A conscious uncoupling. That settles it.

Look, let’s stay conscious friends. And I do hope you find the perfect conscious individual for a future conscious coupling — someone who will really make you happy, and who is also conscious.

Goodbye, honey. I’ll never forget you. Oh, and you are bleeding pretty good where I hit you in the face with my car keys. That you are dabbing it up with your shirt is an excellent sign that you are still alive, conscious, and well.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.