Three hearts will break in two
24 May 2005 at 12:40 pm

I was working on McSweeney's shit until 11 last night in the Mission and caught a ride home. During phone calls to Aaron throughout the day, it occurred to me: what the hell kind of relationship is this? Understand that I have no basis for comparision, but all Aaron and I do is tell each other what we did that day. And, you know, have sex. Brunch on Saturdays and laundry. Grocery shop and talk about the future.

So then I thought ok, so, what's so bad about this? What else would I want from a relationship that I don't have? The only advantage to breaking up with Aaron is that I could get to know other people, uh, biblically, but I don't want to do that. And, you know, independence.

And it's nice to have someone to do things with, even if we never do those things. I like saying, "Can we take a break? I have to call my boyfriend, he must be worried about me." It's nice knowing someone cares where I am or if I'm alive and that their life would be thoroughly affected if I were dead. Or when I call old friends and say, "Yeah, working full time, in school, been with the same guy for 2 and a half years," it sounds impressive. It makes me seem like a grown-up, someone who has their shit together. It couldn't be further from the truth, but it's an easy ruse. Plus, you know, sex.

But then I wonder, is it nice to have Aaron or is it nice to have Someone? I tend to think the latter, but I guess it's a combo, 'cause Someone might not put up with all the bullshit I throw at Aaron. Someone might not make it a point to work on the things I bitch about. Someone might tell me I might want to think about losing some weight (that Someone used to be Aaron), that his ex-girlfriend was cuter (that Someone used to be Aaron), and Someone might need more training (finessing, manipulating) than Aaron needed. I put a lot of work into Aaron; Someone might not be so receptive to it.

My iPod's very introspective today and it's making me sleepy. Or: no brain should have to handle a jump from The Stranglers to Billie Holiday and I was up late fending off advances.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.