There comes a point in everyone’s life when they begin to wonder if it’s time to put away childish things, meet a nice cobalt–thorium G doomsday device, and settle down for good. But there are concerns. Like, am I doing the right thing? What if I’m not ready? Is mutually assured destruction a true deterrent or a military-industrial complex to create a profitable, never-ending series of escalations?
I’m here to tell you how I stopped worrying about all that and learned to love the bomb. But then, things were good but not great, and me and the bomb kind of became more friends than lovers, ya know?
Don’t get me wrong, from the first moment I laid eyes on the bomb, I felt a deep connection. Compared to that, my feelings for assault rifles and tear gas were mere crushes. But the intensity of my feelings towards the bomb freaked me out. What if I’m screwing up and picking the wrong bomb? Is there a hydrogen bomb out there that I might love more? Also, how’s sex gonna work?
But I was able to put that all aside when I realized I wasn’t really worried about the bomb, I was worried about me not being able to love. Well, we were happy for a while. But then time went on and I found myself daydreaming about other weapons of mass destruction, even when I didn’t want to. When I realized I was signing up for a Belorussian dirty bomb’s OnlyFans, I knew we had drifted too far apart.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love the bomb anymore, it was just that the bomb and I were different than we once were. I had grown in one direction and the bomb had been upgraded with a new uranium core that would render the very surface of the planet dead and lifeless. We just weren’t compatible anymore.
I still think about the bomb sometimes, but it feels weird. Like someone else’s memories. At least we’ll always have the dream of destroying all human civilization forever. We’ll always share that.