I need to have a little chat with you. You are complicating my already complicated life. I have things to accomplish and dreams to conquer. There are metaphorical mountains that I want to make my bitch. I know that when he left you tried to leave too, but that's not how this works. We are a package deal.
I get it. Sleeping next to him made you feel safe. When he said, "Close your eyes," and stole that flower, he also stole you. YES. He was amazing, but he's legitimately on another continent. He has his own mountains and they are too tall for us apparently.
Muhammad Ali said, "It isn't the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it's the pebble in the shoe." If you don't stop your dramatic, Let's cry and watch lifetime marathons, the pebble will become a permanent fixture in our life. The shoe will come off and no matter how hard I shake, the little minute rock will stick on the sole. All because you decided he was worth it. Nobody is worth gaining fifteen pounds for. Not to mention, sex is good. No sex is bad. We agree on this fact. Yeah, I know your rhythm, you little tramp.
Listen, I have shit to do. You can't suddenly jerk in the middle of the day when I'm supposed to be teaching children. I'm pretty sure they already believe I am insane and if we could allow me to hold on to a certain amount of composure, that would be wonderful.
Also! Stop chasing all the other guys away. Men do not like when you talk about your ex for the whole entire date. I'm positive of this. They definitely don't like when you order three tequila shots, because they said something that reminded you of "He Who Shall Not Be Named." What was that guys name? Rich? Peter? Whatever. He was cute and I'm pretty sure that he was not fond that I was late to said date because you had it in your ventricles that tattoos were a good idea. Ink will dull the pain. Yeah, you stopped aching for a day and then we talked to 'him' again. Then it was achey breaky bullshit all over again.
So I'll give you tonight. You get to rumble around like a bull in a china shop around my chest one more damn time. I'll even self medicate your needy ass with a little ice-cream. Okay, that's for me too. Not the point. However, when we wake up, you better be back to the normal size. Even if I need to gather some Whos from Whoville to sort your crazy out like they did for the Grinch. We are not Grinch status. We're more like Olivia Pope from Scandal, broken alcoholics who love popcorn and red wine, but we have promise. You're not completely frozen yet.
I'm ready to be me again, which means I need you on board. I'm ready to flirt and smile and date--without the constant reminders. I'm ready to stop missing him. SO you little ball of flesh, cut the crap. Accept this imaginary needle and thread. I'll miss him too, Buddy. He was pretty wonderful, but he's gone. Here we are with so much to look forward to. We get travel the world and find ourselves all over again. Then, months or years from now, when we least expect it, we'll see some cute boy and it will be on a day I showered. He'll look back and you'll skip a beat. Just wait and see.
Lets climb this shit.
xoxo <3 Me.
P.S. Also stop being a dick when the cute guy at spin says hi.
About the blog:
Emily Ann Hansen
I'm a writer and teacher living in Baltimore City. I'm originally from Chicago. I graduated from Columbia College Chicago with a BA in Fiction. Instead of babbling, I will list a few of the things in life that make me happy: