I ran you a warm bath and took off your clothes. I cooked spaghetti and meatballs for you and handed you the paper so you could do the crossword puzzle. I even took you to a work party! And then somehow, I stopped wanting to cook for you and bringing you to social gatherings started to stress me out. Maybe it’s because I started taking a different route to work, or because the season changed from summer to fall, or you know what it might’ve been actually? I started to get into comic books. At the end of the day though, I’m not exactly sure why. I just knew I could no longer love you.
I swore I would love you to the ends of the earth. I spent so many nights in bed with you, promising things I knew I had no business promising. And then somehow, I changed my mind. Maybe it’s because I stayed too late at the bar, or because I lost my keys that one day after going to the video store, or because I started to eat dinner at 6 p.m. instead of my usual time at 7. I can’t give you an answer. I just knew I could no longer love you.
I introduced you to my parents and they liked you, except my mom would sometimes involuntarily scowl at you during dinner. Sorry babe! I told my parents that you were important to me and that I was right on track to being loved and married and all that gross stuff. “Mom, Dad! I’ve been accepted into Somebody Loves You University. Can you believe it? They don’t just accept anybody!” And they let out a wan smile and passed the potatoes and everything was fine, I guess. But then somehow, things stopped being fine. Maybe it’s because I looked too long at my mother’s scowl, or because I don’t like to eat potatoes, or because your body started to feel slimy and foreign. I can’t honestly tell you. I just knew I could no longer love you.
I took you to the doctors because you weren’t feeling well and I felt like such a good person when I was in that waiting room. I wanted to scream at the coughing 80-year-old woman, “Excuse me! I’m waiting for my significant other right now. Because I am a really good partner, the best really. So you can shut up? You’re depressing and I’m happy!” And then somehow, I no longer wanted to wait for you in a doctor’s office. It seemed like the worst activity on planet Earth actually. Maybe this was because I hate hospitals, hate old people, or maybe it’s because I started to hate you. I mean, I’m at a loss, honey! I just knew I could no longer love you.
I couldn’t keep my hands off of you. It was crazy! I was kissing you in parks, in restaurants, during business lunches, when you were getting ready for bed. I became that PDA person I never thought I could become. But then, somehow, I reverted back to my usual self. I stopped kissing you in public or even in our bedroom. Maybe it’s because you had bad breath, or because I have weird intimacy issues, or maybe it’s because your tongue started to feel like sandpaper. I don’t know, okay? Leave me alone. I don’t love you.
People spend so much of their time wondering why and it gets them nowhere, besides eating Lithium ice cream in a diner for sad people. It’s because they don’t want to know the truth, which is people can be cruel and falling in love can be just as random as falling out of love. We don’t want to think of ourselves that way, don’t want to admit that we have the capacity to be so fickle and heartless. But we do. It’s not our fault. It’s how we’re wired. If you want to blame anyone, blame whatever created us. “Hey you! Why did you give humans the ability to be such pricks? That was like sooo not necessary.” NO COMMENT.