Sunday, February 20, 2011

Tears of an Asshole

This is a new piece that I wrote for the Purge ATL reading "It's Not Me, It's You" at the Wren's Nest in Atlanta, Ga. It's laced with love & profanity. Enjoy!


Tears of an Asshole


The problem with relationships-- is getting comfortable. And by “relationship”,I mean anyone that you’re willing to go out to breakfast with after you Sport Fucked them the night before or something like that.

In the first couple of months of a relationship, you not only watch what you say around the other person, but every-single-little-word--your opinions, jokes, world views, catch phrases, sweet talk, pillow talk, even safe words.

You find yourself sounding out each word in your head and checking their meanings in the proverbial dictionary of your mind. You catch yourself silently thinking:

“Is it supposively or supposedly?”

“I hope they don't make fun of my slang.”

“Did I really fucking tell them that I voted for Bush in the ‘04 election?”

You analyze each situation--patting everything down like it's going through a TSA checkpoint. You eliminate every uncomfortable situation, constantly having your conscious check to see if you have any “dick and fart” jokes stashed in your waist band.

No situation is too small, anything from passing the salt to pulling her hair while you nail her doggy-style.

"Did I seem bothered when I handed her the salt? I hope she doesn't think I'm mad. She probably wanted the pepper too!”

Or maybe you’re thinking--

"Shit! Was I was pulling her hair too tight? It sounded like she liked it, but maybe I was hurting her. I do have a fist full of hair now--I shouldn’t have spit on her back!”

Eventually, you let your guard down. At first, there's no real threat. You've never said anything questionable before, why would you now? You're a perfect gentleman.

Then you let something slip. There's always an excuse as to why -- you were tired, maybe a little drunk and definitely had a bad day at work. It's always subconsciously.

Maybe you hate Band of Horses and have lied about it up until this point.

Or maybe you hint-- that her ass doesn’t really look that good in skinny jeans anymore.

Or you finally tell her what you really think about her loser brother that she's elevated to hero status in her mind.

It doesn’t really matter what it is exactly.

But somehow you’ve smuggled through security some insensitive words in your shoe, that is on the foot, that you will be placing in your mouth, after you inadvertently vocalize them.

All of a sudden-- you’re not perfect anymore.

And I don’t mean the idea of a messed up guy that you’ve created for her to show her how much you’ve changed. You’re no longer the guy who should have payed more attention to his last girlfriend’s needs, but has changed now-- and tries to understand his female counterparts every whim. You’re not the one who had anger issues because he was unhappy in his job and relationship, but has realized what makes him happy now... and it’s her.

No, now you’re the asshole boyfriend who fucking made her cry, who is now apologizing and trying to remove the foot from your mouth-- and the tears from hers eyes with the same hand.

It’s impossible.

And that’s where it gets painful. The snowball effect is too nice a term for what happens here because it’s more like a tornado in a blizzard-- during an earthquake. Instead of the situation picking up speed, gaining traction and rapidly getting worse. It’s more of a destructive force than something rolling down a hill. It’s fucking chaos, complete annihilation-- the god damn mother fucking Apocalypse...and it’s too late to repent. No death bed confessions allowed.

Nothing you say can make it better, even an apology will come off as insincere-- and it ultimately makes it worse. You can’t run away from it, because then you’re walking out.

Eventually, you just end up slowly dying from the inside-out. What’s most unbearable about this situation, is that you have to take it...in silence.