Fuckin’ Loser

“Come on, say it,” my best friendĀ insisted. I laughed if off. I didn’t like to think of past partners in such a negative light. I spent the past six months with this one, and I had fun. I really did. We got on really well, and I really believed we would be together for a long time.

But we were never exclusive.

I wanted to be exclusive. I liked him a lot. He led me to think he really liked me.Ā But every time I asked, it was the same excuse. “I’m not ready.” When I asked why, I was serenaded with sweet nothings disguised as kisses and “I love you, but…”

One night he told me, “You should enjoy being single!” Despite sleeping over multiple nights a week, despite our late night drives and intimate conversations, I was still single in his eyes.

I tried to convince myself I was okay with it. I went out, flirted with other guys, got plenty of numbers. I told myself this was perfect. I was free to be young and reckless, while still having a man to come home to. But with all the other men I met, they never measured up. I couldn’t feel the same way about these men, as I did about him.

But he never wanted me. He never cared about me at all. If he had, I would have gotten more than just a text reading, “We need to talk,” as our official break-up.

“He’s a fuckin’ loser!”


Dead Dog

It’s like looking at a dead, old dog. My unmade bed with his blanket lain in it. Just two days ago, his naked body slept intertwined with mine under the blanket he brought over, keeping the two of us warm where each other couldn’t.

Now, that blanket, lifeless in your bed, it’s a dead pet. It’s your family dog you adopted when you were six. You loved him so dearly, but as he crept into old age, as his face grew more grey every week, as his hips gave out, you had to nurture him more and more, mashing his food for him because his teeth had rotten, carrying him home when he tired out on his daily walks. It killed you to think of his time running out, so you took care of him as long as you had to.

And when the day finally came, you cried hysterically over his limp, lifeless body.

Then you felt relief. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew your life would be a little bit easier. You knew you could move on now.