Sunday, April 1, 2012

April Foo- Fuck you.

 I may add illustrations to this later.
EDIT: I added some illustrations!  Woo!

You know that thing where I'm the daughter who is really neurotic and has some really fucked up anxiety issues?

And, remember how when I was a kid, people said I didn't have a sense of humor because I couldn't bring myself to laugh if something wasn't funny?


As it turns out, I still can't take a joke.  At all.   Oh my god.

So, well meaning boyfriend has this plan in his head, and it's a funny plan.  It pokes fun at all the issues we've had and conquered and he knows I can take it because I'm a smart cookie.

So, after I've had a long day of sitting for six hours with a man who talks a lot but says very little, and I've been looked at and scrutinized for this person's make up class and then made to look quite literally like a clown... I come home.

...The make up part wasn't so bad.  It was the application of the base that was bad.  The teacher had to explain, loudly, which areas of my face needed to be covered up.

Apparently this is how some people see me: 

Which makes me feel like this:

So, I go home.
We have a wonderful rest of the day. 

I am very happy.

Typically, I'm so paranoid, that when I'm happy for too long, I flip shit, thinking something horrible will happen to screw it all up.


Why make me right for no reason??  WHAT?

Boyfriend was just gone for ten days across the country with a friend of his and I missed him dearly. 

Boyfriend today says, via text, "Soooo...  I have some interesting news..." and waits for me to come up with all kinds of ridiculous and exponentially more and more horrible things until he finally says that he is going away for a couple of days with said friend.


So, seeing that it's April 1st, I say, "Or, it's just an April Fool's joke.  Good one."

He tells me that he wishes it was.

Here is mistake number one.  When your neurotic, anger prone girlfriend who has abandonment issues calls you out on fucking with her, the joke should be over.

No no.  Not my boyfriend.  He's an all or nothing kind of chap. 


So much.

I hate everything.

So, I ask if he'll be back home tonight or if he's leaving right away.  ...and he doesn't answer for a while.  I start ranting about how he should at least CALL ME like a decent human being and how, no, I don't think he's so evil that he purposefully brings me so high up just to drop me farther down. 


He gets home, we chat for a while.  I show him that I'm okay with him leaving.  I'm upset, but okay.  We laugh.  We are very cute and happy.

Then, he tells me it was all a joke.

To anyone else, this would be hilarious.  Watching it happen, it would have been.



It takes me a while of asking him very quietly to stand up so I can hit him as hard as I can in his stomach.  I tell him I won't go for his balls, and I will let him tighten his abs first. 

I'm five foot nothing and I weigh about a hundred pounds.  He's a foot taller than I am and significantly stronger. 

I was so angry that he was honestly a bit concerned for his well being. 

This is the most rational thing he did this evening.

I resort to plucking out a nose hair of his that had been bothering me for a couple of days.  If I'm going to cause him pain, it may as well be productive.  Then, he hugs me, and I send him on his merry way.

So... Never mind.  It was a joke.

...I can't tell if I'm happy. 

...I hate this holiday.

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