... where Mike and I are going right now.
I love him dearly. But... sometimes he tends to irritate me.
Maybe its the good irritation, like an oyster before it poots out a pearl, but its starting to grate my shell hardcore.
I need a wee rant over some things.
For instance, this Stargate thing.
Its ******** fantastic he got 10 seasons of Stargate for Christmas. Holy mother of Teal'c, that's awesome.
But after watching five seasons straight, I'm a little bored of it.
"Babe, want to watch some Dead Like Me?"
"After this episode..."
"Babe, want to play Left 4 Dead?"
"... after this episode..."
"Babe, mind if I flirt up the hazel-eyed cutie in my Algebra class?"
"... after... this... episode..." *zombie stare*
I just want to do something other than sit in front of the TV and drink. And coming from me, that is a sentence I never thought I would hear.
I am the queen of hermits. But at least I mix up my lameness!
I have a $25 gift card to the movie theater, coupons for Red Lobster and IHOP that are about to expire, hell, I'd even settle for going somewhere new and entertaining to drink. I'm the one driving. I pay for the gas,even though I don't actually have an income right now, but I want to do things so I drag him out.
But for the love of Ra, he comes home, nixes my plans, puts in Stargate, and doesn't move until I want to sleep.
And even then, I usually just put in my earplugs and pass out.
Also, I don't think he likes me losing weight.
He gave me a hug today when I got home from class, and I could tell he was feeling up my shoulderblades when he had his arms around me. When I looked up at his face, he was frowning.
He does the same thing when he touches my hips, and it hurts my feelings to see... disgust? on his face.
I'm sorry if you're insecure about your beer gut, but I was doing this to be hotter, and feel more attractive for you. Don't make me out to be a bad person because I want to be healthy.
He's already expressed distaste for the picture I have of me at 126lbs. He was so blunt as to say he "hates it" and he "doesn't like girls that look like that".
I just feel like we're suffering.
Like right now, we're great friends, but the lover I want isn't there.
The other morning I woke up when he got out of bed, put my arms out and purred "Get back over here, sexy beastie" and he responded with, "Look, Whiskey (our corn snake) shed in the night!" and proceeded to pick up the newly-shed snake and fondle it, instead of his girlfriend, who was trying to shed clothing.
And I'm like... "WHA?"
Sometimes, he just strikes me as so young. He's only a year younger than me, but he's so distracted, doesn't get s**t done unless someone pesters him into it, and isn't inspired to make anything of himself.
Its just like having a teenager in the house. He has to be harassed into brushing his teeth, I cook for him, I clean up after him, I take care of things like "Its your father's birthday, would you like to go over or just call?" and "Your school payment is due, I'll text you at work so you don't forget to deposit the money" and "Your pants are ripped in the a**. I'm throwing them out and we're buying new ones, like it or not. And yes, that involves shopping."
I also take care of things such as "Mike-for-the-love-of-god-we-are-in-a-restaurant-please-stop-burping."
I wouldn't take him to anywhere swanky. I couldn't, the dressiest thing he owns is a pair of khakis and a longsleeved black O'Neill shirt.
He's like a child.
A child who gets belligerent when I start poking him in the gut which hangs over his pants, and saying "Hoo-HOO!"
... but he won't exercise more, or eat less, or even acknowledge he has a problem. He just gets drunk and grabs his stomach and says "This is going to change" in a mystical, prophetic way, as if one day the Lipo Gods are going to drop from above and magically disintegrate 50lbs. off his a**.
Oh, and gets mad when I won't drink with him, because it doesn't fit into my diet plan.
A child who drinks gods know how many mixed drinks before I even get home from class, and greets me by actually picking fights over something so everloving stupid as Stargate.
I'm frustrated, in numerous ways. I'm hormonal and goddamned horny, but the gin-breathed creature downstairs which is proclaiming slurry genocide on imaginary aliens downstairs isn't exactly appealing to me.
Not to be outright rude, but if he doesn't at least cease gaining weight, I don't think he'll appeal to me even when he's sober. And gods know what will happen when he starts smoking pot again... I don't think he realizes he doesn't have the metabolism of a teenager anymore, and marijuana isn't "magical" in the sense that once you start smoking it, munchies calories don't count.
If he hits 300lbs. I swear to god, I'm leaving him.
And it breaks my heart to write that.
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Rot With Me, Lover.
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Mesic
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