Tag Urself
I read a post the other day,
about how all the male characters in LOTR correspond directly to an archetype of horrible exes.
My most notable ex is a Bilbo.
Features include:
-allergic to fun
-thinks you need to “broaden your horizons” so they want you to read Kerouac
- calls themselves a self-made man even though they inherited the house
Chloe’s features include:
-stressing about college
-introducing everyone she knows to new poets
-being very pretentious about having known those poets
-taking her girlfriends to meet all her slam friends!
-abandoning those slam friends for a bigger organization
-giving away her mother’s money by the hundreds
My roommate and I have a Boromir in common.
Features include:
-horrible combination of inferiority complex and fragile ego
-has never heard the word “no”
-really, really thinks getting married will fix your relationship problems?
Their features include:
-horrible combination of inferiority complex and fragile ego
-still texts “u up?” periodically despite being ignored
-actually so stupid he pulled out her NuvaRing one time bc he didn’t know what it was
-proposed on the fifth date when she learned i was moving away for college
-proposed again every day after that
-was mad when we got mad that they ignored us for multiple days in a row???
-tried to break up by ghosting us immeditately following a family emergency
-was pissed that we were concerned maybe they had fucking died
-called us the selfish ones
I love posts like that, you know, relegating a really really complicated facet of our collective lives into just a handful of variations and---
somehow, it’s accurate.
It always makes me want to create something like that.
To build something like that,
something anyone can relate to.
Makes me wanna talk about shaving your head on a whim and burgundy lipstick on the first date, pulling your hand away, all the time, and attending your senior prom alone.
I wanna talk about closets
and corsets
and couple’s costumes with other people
about being told i should ask out another girl i’d met that night, at an event i only went to because she was performing
about your best friend seeing the break up poem she wrote about you posted online,
*before* you’d even broken up
and then being told it wasn’t about you
about not getting an invite to weekend trips with friends, even though everyone thought you were fucking friends.
About love.
About beauty, enhanced by her words.
About learning about stripes, in all sorts of new ways.
Except, I wanna write about it, in metaphors about cacti and shit.
Like, if your girlfriend spent more time with her ex than you in public while claiming she couldn’t see you in public because people would find out she was gay, you’re a cactus, and she’s the sun.
And like, if your ex girlfriend is quasi-famous in certain circles and you’re starting to break out into those circles, then she’s a senator, and you’re a hibiscus.
And like, maybe if you’re a hibiscus, then she shouldn’t be the sun anymore, because without the sun, your flower is gonna fucking.
Die,
so like,
darlin,
stop comparing her to the sun.
It’s not that accurate.