i need a hug
(Written at roughly 1 am this morning, because concentrating on anything productive was an impractical ambition.)
If I were your boyfriend, I would break up with you. Actually, I don’t think I would stick around long enough to break up with you. I’d simply leave the country on the first flight out. I wouldn’t care where the plane was going, as long as there was a nice, large ocean between us. Also, I believe I would take a sledge hammer to my cell phone, gather the pieces, throw it into the garbage disposal, fish out whatever survived, drop it into a vat of acid, put on a pair of protective gloves, and flush the remainder down the toilet along with a turd laid by an overweight man suffering from irritable bowel syndrome. And after all this, I’m pretty sure I would still suffer from nightmares and awake feeling the need to vomit for a good six months.
Perhaps I am overreacting. Perhaps it is perfectly normal to talk on the phone with the same person for 3-5 hours at a time, every day, especially when you’ve been dating the person for one of the two weeks you’ve known them. Perhaps it is insignificant that during these pointlessly extensive conversations your roommate can eat, write a page of her philosophy paper, leave to go grocery shopping, come back, watch tv, write a sarcastic narration while you sit behind her, take a nice long shower, putz around preparing for bed, and lay down attempting to sleep all while you sit on your bed and yammer on and on.
I am also sure that no one finds you extremely annoying during these hours. Afterall, the way you talk, the volume of your voice, the topic of conversation, the ridiculousness of duration, and the juvenile characteristics of your relationship are not at all aggravating. I am positive that those fortunate enough to share a living space with you are more than pleased to be subjected to these things. Furthermore, I bet that the fact that you neglect your dishes that have been rotting in the sink, disregard the idea of cleaning, and have failed to purchase toilet paper has gone unnoticed by these lucky individuals you call roommates.
I am absolutely positive, after learning that this poor boy will be visiting your humble residence, that no thoughts of removing the laces from her shoes and hanging herself ever crossed your dear roommate’s mind. It is simply not possible.
(At this point I forced myself to stop. But I gotta tell ya, I could've gone on.)
If I were your boyfriend, I would break up with you. Actually, I don’t think I would stick around long enough to break up with you. I’d simply leave the country on the first flight out. I wouldn’t care where the plane was going, as long as there was a nice, large ocean between us. Also, I believe I would take a sledge hammer to my cell phone, gather the pieces, throw it into the garbage disposal, fish out whatever survived, drop it into a vat of acid, put on a pair of protective gloves, and flush the remainder down the toilet along with a turd laid by an overweight man suffering from irritable bowel syndrome. And after all this, I’m pretty sure I would still suffer from nightmares and awake feeling the need to vomit for a good six months.
Perhaps I am overreacting. Perhaps it is perfectly normal to talk on the phone with the same person for 3-5 hours at a time, every day, especially when you’ve been dating the person for one of the two weeks you’ve known them. Perhaps it is insignificant that during these pointlessly extensive conversations your roommate can eat, write a page of her philosophy paper, leave to go grocery shopping, come back, watch tv, write a sarcastic narration while you sit behind her, take a nice long shower, putz around preparing for bed, and lay down attempting to sleep all while you sit on your bed and yammer on and on.
I am also sure that no one finds you extremely annoying during these hours. Afterall, the way you talk, the volume of your voice, the topic of conversation, the ridiculousness of duration, and the juvenile characteristics of your relationship are not at all aggravating. I am positive that those fortunate enough to share a living space with you are more than pleased to be subjected to these things. Furthermore, I bet that the fact that you neglect your dishes that have been rotting in the sink, disregard the idea of cleaning, and have failed to purchase toilet paper has gone unnoticed by these lucky individuals you call roommates.
I am absolutely positive, after learning that this poor boy will be visiting your humble residence, that no thoughts of removing the laces from her shoes and hanging herself ever crossed your dear roommate’s mind. It is simply not possible.
(At this point I forced myself to stop. But I gotta tell ya, I could've gone on.)
posted by that girl at
5:18 PM
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