So... I recently went through a break-up.
No yelling.
No I hate yous.
It was rational, calm.
Very adult.
It was mutual, and had been a long time coming.
Some people romanticize a relationship after it ends. Not me. I go the other direction. Completely. His annoying habits become anti-social, psychotic behavior. The nice gestures, clearly bribes or a guilty conscience.
Not only was my ex-boyfriend impatient when I wasn't ready to go on time, for every minute over the proposed departure time he was clubbing a baby seal. Not only did he not like helping me move, he was filling the boxes with 50 pound weights. He didn't just not like my affinity for diet coke, he was shaking the cans before I opened them. He did just not care for my friends, he was hiring hit men to kill them. He didn't just not like my favorite sweater that had a house on it like Dr. Who's house, he was washing it with lycra with the intent of ruining it. He didn't misremember events, he was trying to brainwash me with his version of the "truth".
I could go on and on, but I won't.
I find it hilarious, really I'm laughing as I type this, that I can go to such extremes. And that it is all perfectly logical in my post-break-up brain. But I guess whatever it takes to get us through those tough days following a break up. In my case it was about a day and half before the extreme joy kicked in.*
*I don't say this to be harsh, but rather to illustrate that we are both better off not dating each other.
No yelling.
No I hate yous.
It was rational, calm.
Very adult.
It was mutual, and had been a long time coming.
Some people romanticize a relationship after it ends. Not me. I go the other direction. Completely. His annoying habits become anti-social, psychotic behavior. The nice gestures, clearly bribes or a guilty conscience.
Not only was my ex-boyfriend impatient when I wasn't ready to go on time, for every minute over the proposed departure time he was clubbing a baby seal. Not only did he not like helping me move, he was filling the boxes with 50 pound weights. He didn't just not like my affinity for diet coke, he was shaking the cans before I opened them. He did just not care for my friends, he was hiring hit men to kill them. He didn't just not like my favorite sweater that had a house on it like Dr. Who's house, he was washing it with lycra with the intent of ruining it. He didn't misremember events, he was trying to brainwash me with his version of the "truth".
I could go on and on, but I won't.
I find it hilarious, really I'm laughing as I type this, that I can go to such extremes. And that it is all perfectly logical in my post-break-up brain. But I guess whatever it takes to get us through those tough days following a break up. In my case it was about a day and half before the extreme joy kicked in.*
*I don't say this to be harsh, but rather to illustrate that we are both better off not dating each other.
Not liking your friends is generally a bad sign, but in this case a sign of the aforementioned psychotic behavior, clearly.
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