I’m that constant heartburn, nausea, shaking, headache, and feeling of panic that you didn’t know you needed as a romantic partner. Some days I’m shy and don’t interact with people much, and other days all I want to do is hang around all month!
I’m much more a state of being than a physical presence, so you never know what I’m going to look like next. Most of my past relationships have found this exciting — for a time, at least.
Someone I can latch onto and protect from all the possibilities of everything that could possibly go wrong to them. Have you thought about how much the people around you must be judging you for that wrinkle in your leggings? With me by your side, that’ll be all you obsess over for the next week! What about your case of nerves before your big work presentation? I will nurture that fiendish mania until it takes over every aspect of your life. I just want what’s best for you.
Kids are great. I love kids. It’d be awesome to have kids around and raise them to be fantastic people. But oh god what if they turn out just like me? That would be so miserable for them. And would I even be able to handle that? I can’t be personally responsible for how entire humans turn out. That’s way too much pressure. This has now become terrifying to me — next question?
Overwhelming innocent, well-meaning folks with regret and fear.
Screwing with you, just ’cause.
I also enjoy long walks along the beach, until I inevitably encounter other folks whose presence reminds me of my inherent unlovability and who are probably judging me from their ideal lives. Or until I get attacked by a crab or jellyfish or shark. Probably a shark.
You’d Never Guess That:
I read a lot. I’m actually super knowledgeable. In fact, I never forget a piece of information that I’ve read, presuming that piece of information is something that will haunt you and make you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.
Religion and I have a complex relationship. As long as it feeds your doubts about your worth as a person and tries to pigeonhole you into a fate based on how you live your life, we’re good. But once it starts trying to pull that comforting crap, I’m out.
You present me with all your insecurities so that I may destroy you. As we sit across from each other in a charming restaurant, I toss every vulnerability you share with me in your face, making you as uncomfortably nervous as possible.
“I work at a movie theater,” you confide.
“Oh cool,” I reply. “Is that what you intended on doing with your entire life?”
“Well no,” you might continue. “I went to school for screenwriting, and I’ve been auditioning for acting gigs around the city.”
“But that’s not what you’re doing now,” I will say.
“No,” you will assert, most likely confused at my negativity.
“How do your parents feel about that?” I will ask. “What about your grandparents? What about your extended family and all the friends you’ve known throughout your life, not to mention the casual acquaintances from years ago whose perfect existences are showcased on social media? They must be doing much more significant things than you currently are.”
“I mean, I’m only twenty-three, and I feel like I have plenty of time—”
“No, you’re old,” I will interrupt. “Your best days are behind you. Too bad you wasted them at that movie theater.”
“I actually kind of like working there,” you’ll begin, but I won’t let you finish.
“Are you sure? Are you sure? Are you sure? Because I think you’re just making this up to try to make yourself feel better and actually you’re miserable. Do you feel miserable yet? How about now? Think about all the things that could go wrong. How about now? I’m pretty positive you’re miserable.”
And with that, we will end the date on a satisfying note of obsessive panic.
Ideal Length of Relationship:
However long it takes before you inevitably turn to therapy and have a psychiatrist prescribe you Xanax. Really, I’ll just be happy as long as we get some quality time together during which I literally ruin your life.