Sex is great… most of the time. Sometimes, I just can’t be bothered to leave my apartment to, uhm, get it on. Here are a few texts sent to blow off my partner (pun intended), and the real reason why no sexytimes were had.
1. Text: “oh shit, completely forgot I had plans, sorry! :\ raincheck?”
Reality: This was the day after an intense night out. Since I was too weak to go running that morning, I’d bargained with myself that I’d do pushups instead. After my huge breakfast, however, I did four pushups and made myself believe that I was so full that pushups would be medically unadvisable. I decided to “go back to sleep”, aka laying down in bed with a huge cup of coffee…
Obviously, I did absolutely nothing that day. Even my Netflix binge was unproductive – all I did was rewatch Happy Ending episodes for the fourth time. By the end of the day, I felt too lazy, fat and bloated to get naked with you, but not to jerk off half-naked, wearing only a sweatshirt to avoid my hand directly touching my nonexistent gut.
2. Text: “I feel kinda weird, sorry. maybe it’s something I ate!”
Reality: I did feel weird. It was definitely something I ate. I ate cheese even though I’m not supposed to and I couldn’t stop farting. And this gas was not of the quiet, odorless variety. Whatever, that baked brie was worth it.
3. Text: “oops, fell asleep. raincheck, tomorrow?
Reality: I’d just watched Celeste and Jesse Forever for the fourth time and man, that 20-minute montage of Rashida Jones having a meltdown really got to me. What does it feel like to have such a symbiotic relationship, and for it to just go away? Isn’t every relationship just a potential risk of becoming too intense, too much? Are the best, most meaningful relationships just new peaks from which to fall? And how come I haven’t had any relationships whose ending affected me that badly? How many people in the world are having their own epic meltdowns right now that would make great, tightly edited 20-minute filmed versions? Where’s MY meltdown? Damn, I need to do something with my life.
Oh, right, I forgot you texted me three hours ago. Here’s a half-baked apology.
4. Text: “my apartment’s a mess, oops. raincheck?”
Reality: My apartment was messy, sure, but one thing was clean: my sheets. I like you, but not as much as I like freshly cleaned sheets. We’ll talk tomorrow.
5. Text: “fuck, I just missed the last bus. raincheck?”
Reality: I was praying you wouldn’t care enough to check the bus schedule, cause there was another bus coming. My neighbours were outside talking and smoking, and I didn’t want to pass by them. It’s always awkward, and I didn’t feel like making small talk. They’re nice, but a bit TOO nice, you know? I can’t deal with small talk at 12:40 AM when I know I’ll be seeing these people on my walk of shame tomorrow.
6. Text: “hey”
“do u wan”
“wanna hang out ? tongiht”
“WHy arr you not assring”
“haaaa ‘assring” i meant ansring”
Reality: Oh, how the tables have turned! You’re the one who blew me off after these multiple text messages! Sure, you ignored me because you accurately deduced that I was intoxicated when I wrote this message, but still! Anyway, no hate – I would not have written back either.