Put on a helmet and sit on the toilet because when you hear what I’m about to tell you, you’re going to get so jealous you will shit out your ovaries or whatever you’ve got going on there and pass the fuck out. Okay, here goes: I am Nathan Fielder’s girlfriend! Calm down. It’s not all philosophical orgasms and emotional aviation. There’s pain and havoc, too. Because though Nathan Fielder and I have been together for six months, he still doesn’t know we’re in a relationship.
I know what you’re thinking: Probably Nathan does know we’re in a relationship; he just won’t acknowledge it because that would cause him to potentially break character, and it could violate his neurotic privacy policy. Then there’s the fact that his whole shtick is being a prick, in a clever, Canadian, sweatshirt guy way. If you know his work, you know that he mindfucks like nobody else. He does this euphoric thing where he makes you feel like his brain is making love to your brain. Nothing beats having your IQ climax.
So, yeah, Nathan pretending to not know I’m his girlfriend is a very Nathan thing to do. But lately I’m convinced he really doesn’t know we’re in a relationship, that he’s pushing it all away because he’s scared of intimacy that isn’t critically acclaimed or on HBO.
I’m used to him confronting me with statements like, “I don’t know who you are” and “take whatever you want just don’t hurt my cats,” but lately he’s treating me like, I don’t know, a stalker.
Yesterday he leapt out of the backseat window of an Uber when he saw that I took off my mask and revealed that I was the driver. Then, when I got home, the locks were changed (guess Nathan’s anoraks will fold themselves!) and through our bedroom window, in that little space where the blinds don’t close all the way, I saw the anti-Nazi thong I’d spent all week wearing for him crumpled on the floor, in a Ziploc bag labeled “evidence.”
I’m confused and feeling gaslit, which I guess is exactly how Nathan wants me to feel, and yet another reason why he should get all the Primetime Emmy nominations. But you know, even if somehow I am in fact not in a relationship with Nathan Fielder, I can keep my chin up because I know I will be soon. And if that’s the case, I should just shut up and savor this sacred time that not even a restraining order can ruin. As Nathan has proven, the actual relationship isn’t nearly as meaningful or beautiful as the rehearsals leading up to it.
