You’re not just breaking up with me, you’re also breaking up with the dozens of leeches living on my body
Babe, wait – think about what you’re doing. I know we’ve had our ups and downs lately, but we can still patch things up! Are you really going to walk out the door and leave me here, alone, save for the dozens of leeches attached to my body and face? After all we’ve been through?!
I really think all we need is another weekend getaway, for the two of us to step away from the rat race and reevaluate where we stand. Yes, I realize that our last weekend at the cottage was meant to be the curative balm our relationship needed, and that maybe I squandered that healing opportunity by insisting on taking the canoe out into what was, in retrospect, clearly a disgusting bog. And sure, maybe I didn’t help matters by standing up mid-argument, only to lose my balance, topple in, and emerge moments later with my entire face and body covered in blood-sucking leeches. But other than that I feel like we covered a lot of ground! And besides, sometimes a seemingly bad situation can turn out to be a blessing in disguise. You just have to dig deeper and find that silver lining – like how I looked through that dusty old tome afterwards, and learned that leech therapy is actually highly effective in excising ill humors through the bloodstream. For someone who’s always saying how bad my humor is, I think you could stand to be a little more supportive of this. If I can give these leeches a sporting chance, why can’t you do the same for us?
And while we’re on the subject, I feel like you haven’t been acknowledging my needs at all lately! Like last week, when I was getting to know all the individual leeches, and I asked if you wanted to join me, and you just kind of scoffed and went back to your book. You didn’t consider my feelings, or Doug’s, or Angela’s, or Emma’s or Miguel’s or even Miguel Jr’s! In fact, I feel like I get the cold shoulder every time I ask you for even the simplest favor – like to PVR the game, or to pick up the eight gallons of orange juice I need to drink every day to stave off hypovolemic shock. And you’re always so cavalier with my emotions: whenever you mention how I “look like shit,” or complain about how we can no longer have sex ever since the kids discovered that my penis is where all the best veins are, it hurts me (not physically, of course, because of all the numbing creams I’ve been slathering onto myself for the past week).
And I don’t think it’s fair to accuse me of not being there for you. Granted, I wasn’t there to celebrate your big promotion at O’Donnell’s, and I regret that. But you’ve missed a lot of big moments in my life too: like the time Rameet did his first complete lap around my forearm, leaving an adorable trail of little perforating bitemarks. You’re mad at me for missing your niece’s birthday party? I don’t recall you being there with me that afternoon when my left hand turned from bright red to a deep, romantic purple. And where were you when my blackened pinky toe finally fell off during my half-marathon and kind of rattled around in my sneaker for 45 minutes until I could discreetly remove it at the finish line? Off living your own life, no doubt. Well, commitment is a two-way street.
Look, I know our problems run deep. You don’t have to remind me that our inability to have a child has really put a strain on things, especially after you specifically made me get tested to confirm that I was infertile and not you. And it certainly didn’t help matters that you made multiple copies of the test results and continually left them around, on the fridge for example, or as a slide in a PowerPoint presentation I was giving to my coworkers, almost like a constant reminder of my failures as a man. That kind of thing cuts deeper than a leeches’ sucker ever could. But I’ve been trying to make things right, and that starts with considering other options. You said you’d be open to adoption – well, I’ve given you the opportunity to take in over seventy delightful, low-maintenance orphans and you shrugged it off. You’re never willing to meet me halfway! All I want is for you to open your mind and see my new friends the way I see them, and then maybe describe what they’re up to, because my eyesight has become increasingly blurry for the past day and a half.
Fine. If that’s what you want, then leave. Maybe this is for the best. All I ever did was give you everything I had, and all you ever did was take and take, sap my energy, leaving me feeling drained and disgusted. You’re a parasite, frankly, and I don’t know why I was attracted to you in the first place. Well I’m much better off without that negativity in my life. I have new friends now, and for the first time I know how it feels to be appreciated for what I truly have to offer, deep down inside.
** Danny Dillabough is a human, a very funny human who writes about your life. Please follow him on twitter! He will likes it.