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My ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend, Michael, sent me an email this week to help me put to rest the mind-torturing question that has been consuming my thoughts for these past couple of weeks: why do couples always want us single people to be in a relationship?
It’d be quite OK if it were just a wish, but most of them go to great lengths to try and fix me up with who they think would be a perfect match for me. Not only do they constantly remind me of my singleness but they always have to flaunt their delusional nauseating happiness in my face as if having a significant other were the only way to feel like a complete and meaningful human being. While I certainly appreciate their concern, I honestly would be even more grateful if they would all mind their own business. Last time I checked I never sent an SOS.
What really puzzles me is the motive behind this sudden collective campaign from my “in a relationship” friends to find my other half ASAP. Why does it bother them so much that I have complacently been nursing, with dedicated T.L.C., the “me, myself and I” status?
Michael’s explanatory email delivered the following answer: “Maybe couples are envious of single people and want to marry them off so as to be as miserable as they are?”
I’m not going to lie! My sarcastic self totally agrees with Michael’s theory. As they say, misery loves company. Well I love my own company. Yet because I urgently need to shut them all up, I immediately put my irresistible charms to work and can now share with you the exclusive scoop.
Good news: I have a girlfriend! Yeah me! Bad news: she doesn’t know it!
It all kind of serendipitously fell into place about two weeks ago when my super sexy ex-therapist called me in consternation because her digital scale was defectively not displaying the right number – at least not the one she was expecting to read.
“Mona, please help me – I can’t be a fat ass! Can you train me?” she begged over the phone. Wait a minute; my sexy former therapist is now asking for my help?
Let me blow my own horn here and just say that anyone who wishes to work out with me is surely suicidal, or else desperate – and it’s my educated guess that in this case it’s the latter.
Either way, all I know is that it’s a dream coming true. Are you kidding me? I get the pleasure to spend an hour every day with my super sexy ex-therapist for free? And did I mention it’s at the gym, which means that not only do I get to see her sporting some sexy barely-there workout gear, but I also get to visually enjoy the three-dimensional sight of her in some compromisingly twisted positions, which stretching requires.
Needless to say, my answer was a big fat “YES.” Considering the emergency of the situation in hearing the desperation in her voice, I compassionately suggested we start the sessions “NOW.” And just like that she became my girlfriend – granted an imaginary one, but mind you, not for too long as I have faith that, in time, she will come to the gay side of the force.
I’m not being delusional but I’m already sensing the shift. I know she digs my chilly; she’s just not aware of it yet. But I have picked up on the subtle flirting signs she throws at me every session. A few days ago when we stepped foot into the elevator to get to the gym’s floor – I know we should really be using the stairs but she needs her 5-second psychological warm-up – my super sexy former therapist mistakenly pushed the wrong button and then gracefully blurted out “Fuck Me!”
“YES PLEASE!” Of course I didn’t say that out loud but I was thinking it – and obviously so was she. Why else would she be so elegantly poetic with me?
The point is that, clearly, she’s into me. She wants to see me every day and calls me every morning to make sure I am not canceling our 24 Hour Fitness rendezvous; she routinely picks me up in her car so we can ride to the gym together, and emails me daily several times to let me know how she’s feeling. If that’s not the separation anxiety symptoms of the honeymoon phase then I don’t know what else it is!
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Oh, and did I mention that she is slowly going through the process of coming out? Yep, she has started to spread the word about us to her entourage – friends and family – and apparently can’t place a sentence without a “Mona this and Mona that” in it. I recently got the proof of it when we randomly bumped into a friend of hers at the gym and almost instinctively the first words that came out of said friend’s mouth were “Ah! You’re the one who’s WITH the super sexy therapist.” That’s right, I’m with her!
So to be in sync with my honey, I too have launched my massive advertising attack and have ad-nauseum been telling the whole world – specifically the all too concerned couples/friends -- about the new love of my life, because a love story like ours surely rarely exists and … well, pay back is a bitch! If love is blind, obviously it’s not at all mute and I have so much I want to tell everybody about my girl –and I don’t care if they don’t care to hear about it.
Right now I am living la vie en rose. What can I say? I’m in looooove! And I know exactly when it happened: the night we had our first official date. After two weeks of training intensely, my super sexy former therapist called me one day and officially asked me out.
“Let’s have dinner on Tuesday. I’ll pick you up at 7 p.m.,” she said, assuming the deal.
“Where are we going?” I curiously asked.
“I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise,” she enthusiastically replied.
Long story short, she actually took me to my favorite Indian restaurant in LA – how thoughtful she remembered, right? When we got to the venue, we sat at the bar for a pre-dinner cocktail and then she did something totally butch, totally unexpected, totally cool and totally super hot…she ordered for me.
“The lady will have a cabernet please,” she commanded the bartender. Wow, I love a woman who takes charge in a romantically gallant kind of way – she’s so gay! As we were savoring our gourmet dishes, out of nowhere she delivered her ultimate declaration of love for me.
“I hate you,” she said.
I melted on the spot. No woman has ever professed her love to me with so much heartfelt honesty. I know it was the pain of her sore body talking but I can read between the lines and see that what she was really saying was, “I LOVE YOU.”
Well, I love her too and even more so, I love our relationship – the nature of it that is!
I get to have my cake – albeit without eating it yet – and all the other sweets too.
And most importantly I get my “in a relationship” entourage off my back.
So what if my super sexy ex-therapist doesn’t know she’s dating me? What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.
It’s hardly a crime…barely a white lie! She gets to go back to her husband and I get to go back to peace and quiet. Plus, until I put her in my EX-file, the truth is out there!
