Posts tagged relations

You Make Time For Everyone Else Except Me
I know it’s hard when you have friends come in from out of town, and you need to quickly drop everything to see them.  Like when your sister is here unexpectedly on business and you want to grab dinner with her instead of me.  Or like when your best friend’s roommates are in town and they need to crash on your couch, so I shouldn’t stay over.  Or like when your mother’s god-daughter’s ex-boyfriend’s band is playing a show on the other side of the city that conflicts with my show on the same night and you have to go because “you promised.”
I see you once a month.  This is a long distance relationship, except with less sexy correspondence.  Oh, and we live in the same city.
You can keep telling me its all coincidental, but that looks a lot like a pattern.  A pattern of avoidance. 
Have fun with your acquaintances.  I’m going to date someone who doesn’t take my time and effort for granted.
-Written by Wompcity

You Make Time For Everyone Else Except Me

I know it’s hard when you have friends come in from out of town, and you need to quickly drop everything to see them.  Like when your sister is here unexpectedly on business and you want to grab dinner with her instead of me.  Or like when your best friend’s roommates are in town and they need to crash on your couch, so I shouldn’t stay over.  Or like when your mother’s god-daughter’s ex-boyfriend’s band is playing a show on the other side of the city that conflicts with my show on the same night and you have to go because “you promised.”

I see you once a month.  This is a long distance relationship, except with less sexy correspondence.  Oh, and we live in the same city.

You can keep telling me its all coincidental, but that looks a lot like a pattern.  A pattern of avoidance. 

Have fun with your acquaintances.  I’m going to date someone who doesn’t take my time and effort for granted.

-Written by Wompcity


You Think We’re In a Love TriangleJust  because you’re standing inappropriately close to the two of us, does  not mean we form a three-sided polygon, connected by an equal number of  vertices.  Let’s get this right before it get’s too far, I do not find  you acute, whatsoever.  In fact, you’re rather obtuse. This is no ménage  à trois, bud.  I get your angle, but you’re not even a consideration on  this girl’s plane, let’s just say we’re not congruent. You’re far too square. 
-Written by wallcloset

You Think We’re In a Love Triangle

Just because you’re standing inappropriately close to the two of us, does not mean we form a three-sided polygon, connected by an equal number of vertices.  Let’s get this right before it get’s too far, I do not find you acute, whatsoever.  In fact, you’re rather obtuse. This is no ménage à trois, bud.  I get your angle, but you’re not even a consideration on this girl’s plane, let’s just say we’re not congruent.

You’re far too square.

-Written by wallcloset


DEALMAKER: You Are My Best Friend
Oh. We like all the same things? That sucks. We hang out all the time and can make each other laugh at anything? Yeah, no thanks. You were the only person there for me when my brother was in a coma? Yeah, I know I was there when your sister went to rehab. Ok, whatever. You know basically everything about me? …And I know everything about you? And we still like each other? Yikes. Yeah, I think you’re pretty good-looking too. But, ew, right? I’m eventually going to constantly compare my husband to you? Oh…you, you’ll probably do the same with your wife? Gross, dude.
Wait, why is your hand on my boobs? How did my hand get on your ass? Well, okay. Since we’re already here. I guess…
-Written by Purplecheck

DEALMAKER: You Are My Best Friend

Oh. We like all the same things? That sucks. We hang out all the time and can make each other laugh at anything? Yeah, no thanks. You were the only person there for me when my brother was in a coma? Yeah, I know I was there when your sister went to rehab. Ok, whatever. You know basically everything about me? …And I know everything about you? And we still like each other? Yikes. Yeah, I think you’re pretty good-looking too. But, ew, right? I’m eventually going to constantly compare my husband to you? Oh…you, you’ll probably do the same with your wife? Gross, dude.

Wait, why is your hand on my boobs? How did my hand get on your ass? Well, okay. Since we’re already here. I guess…

-Written by Purplecheck


You Didn’t Tell Me You Had a Boyfriend Because “You Never Asked”
Hey, you! These last 3 weeks have been amazing! It’s been great getting to know you, and I can’t believe we have so much in common! We even like all the same food, which I found out after I bought you dinner 5 times. You’ve got expensive taste, lady! Ha, oh forgive me for yawning, but I’m just a little tired from all the late night conversations we’ve been having. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just a little taxing to stay up until the sun comes up 3 nights in a row. When it’s with you, I hardly mind! We just have this amazing connection, you know? I feel like I could tell you anything, and that’s why I want you to know that I’m totally falling for you. Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed! Am I blushing? This feels so right! Why are you covering your mouth? Why are you slowly inching away from me? What? You WHAT? Just friends? WHY, we clearly like each- you have a boyfriend? That’s not possible, right? Where is he? Where has he been? He works nights? What? What about weekends? He’s a homebody? Ugh, i’m going to puke. I can’t believe this. I’ve been friend-zoned for the first time since 8th grade. This is the worst feeling since puberty.

You Didn’t Tell Me You Had a Boyfriend Because “You Never Asked”

Hey, you! These last 3 weeks have been amazing! It’s been great getting to know you, and I can’t believe we have so much in common! We even like all the same food, which I found out after I bought you dinner 5 times. You’ve got expensive taste, lady! Ha, oh forgive me for yawning, but I’m just a little tired from all the late night conversations we’ve been having. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just a little taxing to stay up until the sun comes up 3 nights in a row. When it’s with you, I hardly mind! We just have this amazing connection, you know? I feel like I could tell you anything, and that’s why I want you to know that I’m totally falling for you. Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed! Am I blushing? This feels so right! Why are you covering your mouth? Why are you slowly inching away from me? What? You WHAT? Just friends? WHY, we clearly like each- you have a boyfriend? That’s not possible, right? Where is he? Where has he been? He works nights? What? What about weekends? He’s a homebody? Ugh, i’m going to puke. I can’t believe this. I’ve been friend-zoned for the first time since 8th grade. This is the worst feeling since puberty.


You Hate Me
It’s just that I feel like you only keep me around so you have something to stare at to practice setting things on fire with your mind. And when I speak, you look at me like I’ve just stabbed your grandmother. In fact, even when I do nothing at all, your default expression seems to suggest that I have just committed some embarrassing, slightly distasteful social faux pas that you feel uncomfortable calling attention to, but can’t hide your natural disgust for. And no, before you suggest that, this is not just the default sneer of superiority you use to express your disdain for the unworthy world around you. Look, I hate a lot of things, and I hate them hard. But this surpasses the polite horror I have trouble hiding when a (former) friend sends me something in Comic Sans, that twitchy muscle I get under my eye when people wear leggings as pants, even my pure, justified and holy wrath when the soda machine runs out of Cherry Coke.
It’s the blind rage in your eyes when I give the merest indication of my continued existence by, say, breathing. You look like you are about to charge into battle like a Viking berserker, or possibly tear the heads off of several innocent, undeserving fluffy things; such is your intense pain when I lack the common decency to simply dissipate into nothingness while your back is turned.
So I’m leaving, because if I don’t, you will almost definitely kill me in my sleep.
-Written by LittleMeg

You Hate Me

It’s just that I feel like you only keep me around so you have something to stare at to practice setting things on fire with your mind. And when I speak, you look at me like I’ve just stabbed your grandmother. In fact, even when I do nothing at all, your default expression seems to suggest that I have just committed some embarrassing, slightly distasteful social faux pas that you feel uncomfortable calling attention to, but can’t hide your natural disgust for. And no, before you suggest that, this is not just the default sneer of superiority you use to express your disdain for the unworthy world around you. Look, I hate a lot of things, and I hate them hard. But this surpasses the polite horror I have trouble hiding when a (former) friend sends me something in Comic Sans, that twitchy muscle I get under my eye when people wear leggings as pants, even my pure, justified and holy wrath when the soda machine runs out of Cherry Coke.

It’s the blind rage in your eyes when I give the merest indication of my continued existence by, say, breathing. You look like you are about to charge into battle like a Viking berserker, or possibly tear the heads off of several innocent, undeserving fluffy things; such is your intense pain when I lack the common decency to simply dissipate into nothingness while your back is turned.

So I’m leaving, because if I don’t, you will almost definitely kill me in my sleep.

-Written by LittleMeg


BREAKUPBREAKER: You Moved On REALLY Fast
Oh hey. I’m a little stunned to see you, actually. It’s only been two weeks since we broke up and I guess I’m still reeling from it a little bit. I’m doing well, i guess, just working a lot and, uh, doing a lot of, you know, what’s that on your finger? NOT THAT FINGER, although that looks like soy sauce. YOUR RING FINGER! It’s a ring! A fucking ring! What? What the fuck? Please tell me that was the result of an expedition to the bottom of a cracker jack box and not a whirlwind jaunt down marathon romance street. I mean, I’m STILL moving stuff out of your place. Who the fuck are you engaged to? One of my movers??? OH sweet Jesus. I feel like I’ve been hit by the irony truck, backed over and flattened again. If you need me I’ll be spending half the time we were together trying to get over you. Enjoy getting married, and by that I mean, fuck everything.

BREAKUPBREAKER: You Moved On REALLY Fast

Oh hey. I’m a little stunned to see you, actually. It’s only been two weeks since we broke up and I guess I’m still reeling from it a little bit. I’m doing well, i guess, just working a lot and, uh, doing a lot of, you know, what’s that on your finger? NOT THAT FINGER, although that looks like soy sauce. YOUR RING FINGER! It’s a ring! A fucking ring! What? What the fuck? Please tell me that was the result of an expedition to the bottom of a cracker jack box and not a whirlwind jaunt down marathon romance street. I mean, I’m STILL moving stuff out of your place. Who the fuck are you engaged to? One of my movers??? OH sweet Jesus. I feel like I’ve been hit by the irony truck, backed over and flattened again. If you need me I’ll be spending half the time we were together trying to get over you. Enjoy getting married, and by that I mean, fuck everything.


Your Best Friend is your Ex
I love our game nights!  It’s great that that we can open up our home to our closest friends for some good old fashioned fun. But, it’s kind of strange that your ex always ends up on the invite list.  And always shows up.  And brings a snack that is somehow reminiscent of a fond, shared memory. And that you two miraculously wind up on the same team. Every, single, time. Yup, lots of whispering (with ear cupping!), conspiring, giggling, and scheming when it’s time to decide on those important Trivial Pursuit answers. Here’s a question: What 21st century couple broke up famously over a game of Trivial Pursuit?

Your Best Friend is your Ex

I love our game nights!  It’s great that that we can open up our home to our closest friends for some good old fashioned fun. But, it’s kind of strange that your ex always ends up on the invite list.  And always shows up.  And brings a snack that is somehow reminiscent of a fond, shared memory. And that you two miraculously wind up on the same team. Every, single, time. Yup, lots of whispering (with ear cupping!), conspiring, giggling, and scheming when it’s time to decide on those important Trivial Pursuit answers. Here’s a question: What 21st century couple broke up famously over a game of Trivial Pursuit?


The prospect of meeting someone you want to get in bed with at night is what makes you get out of bed in the morning.

Dave and Marisa. Feel free to embroider on pillows or frost on a sheet cake.

theidiotking:

Some people are in relationships that contain a fair amount of gray area. They fight, they break up, they make up, they get back together, only to repeat the exact sequence a week later. They’re confused, they’re clouded by hormones and emotions, and of course, hormotions, which are hormonal emotions.

These couples argue loudly at gatherings, speak in muted, hushed tones to each other at dinner parties, get into screaming matches on the front porch, throw wine glasses at each other, and eventually end up boning in an upstairs bathroom. These relationships are anything but easy, far from normal, and fairly hard to succinctly explain.

Relationships like this are sprawling, unending, and often baffling, like a mobius strip. Those who are in them are often times not exceptionally happy, at least not all the time. They’re frustrated and often unsatisfied, albeit between bouts of makeup sex-related elation.

However, temporary happiness aside, do these couples really want to broadcast that information to the world? I know it’s ridiculous to even talk about Facebook like it’s in any way a reflection of real life, but some people generally DO try to represent their true selves online. I mostly see people use the “It’s Complicated” relationship status as a joke. It’s Complicated with their bffff(f), It’s Complicated with their roommate, gay best friend, etc. I even know someone who went to the trouble of setting up a second account so his status read “It’s Complicated With My Hands,” and clicking on “My Hands” linked to a profile of his hands. That’s… dedication?

For those looking to let people on the internet know how great they are, there are many ways to display your accomplishments and impeccable taste on your Facebook profile. Look at me!  I’ve read Infinite Jest, and it’s one of my FAVORITE books! I volunteer at FOUR soup kitchens! I only like PRE-Transatlanticism Death Cab! I can copy and paste poetry into the quote section! I work at Red Lobster! So, with all these other chances to brag, what’s the need to describe the details of your weird relationship? I can’t think of any reason someone would want to take the words “It’s Complicated” to announce:

“Hey, I’m sort of seeing someone but I cheated on her and then begged her to take me back and she did but now we’re not technically saying we’re ‘together’ it’s just this in between phase because she says she can’t really trust me anymore but maybe it’ll work out if I can keep my dick in my pants long enough.”

Ladies, where’s the allure in intimating:

“So, I was dating this great guy and then I went to Europe to sort of find myself and backpack and do shrooms and one day I fell off my road bike in Rotterdam, and this really great guy came running out of a coffee shop and he cleaned off my knee and bandaged it and took me inside and bought me a muffin and I was so grateful (and also high) that I ended up giving him a hummer in the backroom and now my boyfriend is all ‘well if you love Werner so much maybe you should stay in Europe and now I’m all AHHH what if I SHOULD stay here?”

Maybe it’s a willingness to overshare with anyone and everyone who might Google you, but I’m pretty sure it’s just their way of saying “yeah, I might not have a ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ PER SE, but at least I’m getting laid.”


You’re Imaginary
You are GREAT, ok? It’s not like you’re not amazing, that’s not the problem. You’re smart, you’re sensitive, you’re caring, you’re HOT (haha, sorry I had to say it!), you know how to cook, you give me space when I need it, your friends are cool, you can always make me laugh, you’re a humanitarian but you’re not pious or obnoxious about it, you’re amazing in bed (seriously, where did you learn that), you’re in amazing shape yet you aren’t a crazy gym fanatic who takes weird supplements and has creepy veins, and best of all, you genuinely seem to LOVE me. Literally the only problem with you is that I’m imagining you. What gives you the right to not exist? Ugh, TYPICAL.

You’re Imaginary

You are GREAT, ok? It’s not like you’re not amazing, that’s not the problem. You’re smart, you’re sensitive, you’re caring, you’re HOT (haha, sorry I had to say it!), you know how to cook, you give me space when I need it, your friends are cool, you can always make me laugh, you’re a humanitarian but you’re not pious or obnoxious about it, you’re amazing in bed (seriously, where did you learn that), you’re in amazing shape yet you aren’t a crazy gym fanatic who takes weird supplements and has creepy veins, and best of all, you genuinely seem to LOVE me. Literally the only problem with you is that I’m imagining you. What gives you the right to not exist? Ugh, TYPICAL.