Ides of March

The last time I spoke to Matt was March 27th. We'd hung out the night before and me being the gale force wind I am, felt it necessary to express how pissed off I was for him inviting me to be some bullshit third wheel on his fucked up date.

What the fuck, dude?

He fired off [what felt like] some half-assed apology in a text message for things not panning out better, and because I am crazy and bad at life, decided that he would need to apologize in person.

In hindsight it may have helped if I had actually said "you need to apologize in person" but you know what? I didn't. That was the last time I spoke to Matt and I wish that it had been different.

I saw him 3 days ago in front of a bar, looking the same as he always does.

Fucker.

I walked along the side of the charity bar next door to my job, talking to my friend Chris about virtually nothing it seems when I looked over to the people on the patio and I made eye contact with Matt. In my brain the only thing that made sense was to smile and wave which then started taking place as my synapses began to fire in order, but to my absolute dismay this motherfucker looked away.

I could literally hear what little ego I had just evaporate. 

I fucking went into a coma. I used every brain cell I had to think back on every conversation we'd ever had. Was I really so terrible that instead of greeting each other like friends do, he'd actively avoid engagement? I was raising my hand to wave and had even fashioned a smile when he quickly averted his eyes to nothing. LITERALLY NOTHING. or his friends or what, but I prefer to believe that it was in fact, nothing.
My heart raced so fast I could only recall one other occasion in which my heart literally pounded so hard, I was at this shitty carnival with my grandmother and took a ride on some what had to have been illegally operating tilt-a-whirl because I almost flew off the ride in mid air. Terrifying.

I tried my best to "charge that shit to the game" but it's consumed me recently and it's keeping me up at night. I really miss talking to him, which aggravates me because I know that is such a little bitch thing to say, but it's fucking true. Matt is smart and I miss our banter.

Anyway, I just want to know why you didn't say hi, and I miss you. You know, which isn't weird.

See ya later.

My Longest Relationship

It was the best summer of my young adult life; I lived in a duplex in the Heights that basically came out of my fucking dreams and manifested on the most storybook street in all of the world. I was a slight 17 year old girl who lived by herself in an apartment that once housed the loving duo that once inhabited this space but whose relationship had crashed and burned earlier that fateful year, it was also the year that I got my first cat, Benny.

What a year.

It was also the first year I purchased my first couch.

9 years ago I met my BEDDINGE LOVAS, the cheap futon I purchased because I had absolutely no furniture after my boyfriend dumped me for some old bitch he met at a party.

Anyway.

There she was, flat grey metal frame with what I can only assume was a mattress/cushion fashioned of cheap fabric, hairballs, and particle board the way all IKEA furniture is made, she was 250 bucks of perfection and I knew right then and there, she was the one.

Into the cab of my 1994 Toyota Tercel she went, haphazardly obstructing my view of traffic, but fuck it, this was a milestone for me, I was blossoming into a responsible carbon based life form with a place for sitting.

Onto my floor I laid her skeleton, carefully articulating, several times incorrectly, her body until she was put together. Were there screws missing? Sure. Did I have a sofa cover? No. But there she was, ready for a cushion and a guest to cradle. Carefully I secured the mattress to her frame according to cryptic the instructions provided by IKEA, finally she was complete.

My couch, covered in the stains of nearly a decade of life, my longest lasting relationship.

I write this today because our time together is drawing to a close, and while it is just a couch, I am reminded of the time we've spent together.

Countless butts, a handful of relationships, a few breakups, 3 major moves, and a place for my groceries while I put them away. You served your purpose and you did it exceptionally well.


I am going to miss you, couch and I'll think of you fondly.


Please don't tell my parents what you know.