Alternate titles: "What Will Happen After We Have Sex for the First Time."
"Last Night I Thought, 'I don't Know How to Love,' and Then Started Laughing."
Listen, I'm not saying this is right. I'm almost saying it because it lives in my brain and I feel guilty for thinking it, and, like, maybe if I just vomit it out, I won't feel as...shitty about it or something.
I secretly believe that making "good" art, and being in a meaningful romantic relationship are mutually exclusive.
I secretly believe that someone's creative complacency and decline coincides with the beginning of a "LTR."
My idea of "romance" is avoiding future emotional ruin by making a suicide pact. Added note: I'm being serious.
Added note: LOL.
Before I have sex with someone, I imagine like this beautiful future where none of this shit matters, and like, the only thing that matters is that person, and I spend hours awake at night carefully crafting the most perfect sentences I can think of. I want to tell the person how much I love them in a way that they'll never forget, not even when they're a hundred. Like, stupid, reckless, teenage as fuck shit.
And then this thing happens. This moment where everything becomes "real" in my head. I imagine hating everything the person does. I imagine resenting all the time I "wasted" with the person. I imagine sex in bad holes with an affectless expression. I imagine everything becoming a "chore." I imagine watching them look at their Facebook page and the click click click sound of the keyboard and wanting to strike them with a blunt object. I imagine boring, silent dinners, and feeling disgust when I look at their face. I imagine binding legal documents and mortgages and listening to the person snore, and shitty children and a ruined vagina, and I FREAK THE FUCK OUT.
But of course, I don't say any of this. I don't express my "fears" or "feelings" like a grown ass adult. I quietly smile, with terrified eyes, and when the time is right, I do WHATEVER.IT.TAKES to push the person away forever and ever and ever, and never talk again.
And that way, I can still love the person in the most intense way, and I can keep them in my head when they were perfect, and not all raped up by time, and boredom and stupid, irrelevant fights.
And if we're talking about sadness, and all of that bullshit, this is really the hand at the heart of the matter.
Added Note: LOL
Next time a stranger talks to me I'm just going to smile, and say, "TITS OR GET THE FUCK OUT."