1. That time I didn’t talk to anyone about anything and then exploded over text

I met this guy and then a few months later, had to leave for a few months. Little did I know how little I meant, because the first thing he’s said to me three months later is whether I would be interested in a threesome, cause his girl wants a third. I basically flipped shit at him over text messaging. His last text was along the lines of “you were super special, I’ll never forget you.” He was a sex addict. 

2. That time I smoked $30 worth of weed in one sitting

I didn’t have cigarettes so I was chain weed smoked in an attempt of getting over two boys, which in some weird mathematical world adds up to one functional relationship…right? One of them was my best friend and involved a sex marathon.

3. That time I came over to my best friend’s house and just cried

My boyfriend made me cry by accusing me of seeing other men. The next day I broke up with him. I went to my best friend’s house and cried about everything, mainly because there was some drama between the three of us. Then I started seeing other men, one of whom, incidentally, was my best friend again (who lives in a different city). 

4. That time I watched Woody Allan movies every day

After breaking up with my part-time lover full-time asshole I took advantage of the Woody Allan festival at the neighborhood cinema and sat in empty dark theaters watching Woody get fucked by life in the ass, with the general message being, life sucks for everyone. It made me feel genuinely better when he didn’t find no true love neither. 

5. That time I hooked up with someone else 12 hours later

Sometimes I do relationships faster than Britney Spears. The morning I broke up with my man was the morning of the day I had a first date with someone else. Basically, let me change and freshen up and I’m ready to go

6. That time I wrote a ton of shitty poetry and drank liters of shitty wine and stared at the ceiling for a long time

Every time. In fact, I don’t even need to break up with anyone for that. I’m a sensitive soul you guys. I also tend to do that sliding-down-the-walls in wailing thing, and that would scare the shit out of my cat. I miss my cat. Pussy makes everything better. 

7. That time I had to tell myself he kinda died, so I didn’t have to

My first boyfriend went back to wherever he was from, and then to Iraq, because he was a military captain, and I was like, “Look baby doll, the boy is dead, ok. Unfortunate, but he doesn’t exist anymore.” Except he does, and we have existential discussions every once in a while. I think he’s going through his mid-life crisis, and even his blond long-legged biologist girlfriend can’t console him. I realize I am difficult to replace. 

I have an exam in 30 minutes, and my biggest concern is which wine I will be buying afterwards, for tonight. 

For tonight is when I will finish Anna Karenina and thus be in great upsets. 

Fuckers, I have wine and Sylvia Plath. I am immortal. 

Your apartment building

Stands in a courtyard:

Across the way is a smoothie joint,

If I can remember.

There is a whole universe in that old little house

And your door stands next to others’ doors

I remember how easily

And carelessly we walked from one small room to the next,

Up and down stairs,

Following the well-dressed man

In a vest.

And how silly I was

And how drunk you were

And how astonished I was

At being astonished

A whirlpool was starting to build in your wineglass,

And a small serving

Of happiness. 

I want to invite you to dinner
Sit you between Reason and Lust
And see how you do
I want to call Memory to the table
She has such stories to tell
After a glass or two
I’ll invite my Past
Grey and humble she sits
Barely eating
I’ll call over Future
But I doubt he’ll show up
With you there
I’ll serve things bitter and sweet
And let the wine flow
From the half-full glasses of Sorrow
I’ll serve the sugar of Life
To go with the tea
But no honey.

And when the guests leave
And you come up to me
From behind
And I am washing the dishes
I won’t be able to hear you
For you do not speak
In a language I understand
And have little Truth
To add to your Defense
And I am very short on my Patience
And you’re a man
Just another simple man
I mistook for a god.

And you are alone now

And you sit in your dark apartment

Your female friends give you hugs

Your male friends invite you to beer

You say no thank you

But that’s nice of you

Sorry and thank you

The food you’ve been eating

Is suddenly tastless

And the cheap wine that you’re drinking

Is staining your lips that disgusting burgundy rim

You’re licking your wounds now

You’re calling it mutual

I know cause I’ve been there

And the warmth that you need

To lay your head

Just for the night

The first night of many

Filled with emptiness and it’s cold now

It’s not like before now

When you could out-walk the night

In life easily led

Last night was magical. We ate dinner outside, and my parents BBQ’d (which never happens) so the food was delicious, with salad, smoked salmon, pork, roasted potatoes, excellent cabernet savignon and waffle cake and chocolate with tea for desert. Then we just sat outside by the candlelight amidst the dying day and talked talked talked, about life. Dad brought out cigars and cognac, and those were passed around. It was beautiful, and filled me with warmth and sincere feelings of love. We all love our family by default, but it’s times like these that you’re totally sure of the reason why.

And going off to bed entirely happy, I passed my driving test the next day.

I’m all smiles.