Well, I’ve gotten to the stage that everyone gets to at some point in their relationship. The part where you either break up or ask for a third. I know what you’re thinking. Oh, I’m the asshole. Oh, I have a pornography addiction. For your information, I only consume feminist porn. You know, porn that only has women in it. This is the 21st century. These are modern times! Who says you can’t have your ethically made gluten-free paleo crumb cake and eat it too? Cheating is rooted in lying and dishonesty so by the transitive property it’s not cheating if you tell them you’re doing it.
Why ethical non-monogamy? Well, it’s complicated, much like our entire relationship. It started the day we met. I remember it like it was yesterday. The sparkle in her eye and nose stud. She asked me “oat milk or almond milk?” I told her I go both ways. We both laughed and then sat in complete silence while she finished my order. It was like fireworks. There was something between us.
But that was a while ago (last Tuesday). It got to the point where I didn’t even have to tell her my order anymore. She hears my footsteps on the floor, and before she can push the Arctic Fox dyed hair out of her eye, she’s got my flat white brewing. It felt so routine, so dull. Sometimes I’d ask for a matcha, just to feel that spark again. But then before I knew it, she was gone. I was told she “had booked a role” and that “this job was just paying the bills until she made it as an actress”. Everything we’d built, destroyed. I was left devastated.
But as they say, life goes on. There’s someone…else. Someone new. She seems to just have a zest for life. Every time I see her I feel like I’m 21 again, and that’s not just because I’ve smoked weed every day since then. I get to tell her all my jokes, and she laughs like she’s never heard them, because she hasn’t heard them. Or maybe she has. Did I mention I’ve smoked weed every day since I was 21? She draws hearts in my lattes. When I ask for non-dairy milk, she won’t charge me extra, and she gives me a wink. I have to BEG my girl to give me the stale pastries they were going to fucking throw out anyways. I think that for the sake of this relationship, there needs to be a change. Something new. SomeONE new.
Oh, and her replacement never asks “Is that it?” with the tip.