A Cohabitating ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’

It’s dinnertime! What is the most appropriate meal for two fully functioning people in their late-20s/early-30s?

A) Make pita pizzas.

B) Order pizza.

C) I dunno, what do you want to eat?

D) I DON’T KNOW, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO EAT?

Hurry! It’s 5pm, which means you only have 30 minutes to come up with a creative way of saying: “Welcome home, I’m sorry I used all your hockey tape for my arts and crafts.” Do you: 

A) Answer the door wearing the last two tiny pieces of tape as nipple covers in the hopes that boobs will make everything okay, because boobs make everything okay.

B) Immediately embark on a lengthy diatribe about how recreational sport is repetitive and replaceable in comparison to your fleeting and spontaneous artistic inspiration.

C) Call in a bomb threat to every local community hockey rink in the city.

D) Boobs?

A storm has cut off your cable and Internet. As you learn to navigate this new, terrifying, Netflix-free world, do you:

A) Uncomfortably stare at one another until it dawns on you: …I have no idea what this human wants or thinks or enjoys other than Orange is the New Black and Breaking Bad I mean who IS this stranger I sleep next to does he even have a middle name have his eyes always been brown am I going to die tonight I’m going to die tonight aren’t I?

B) Play Scrabble by candlelight, with the condition that all words played be a colloquialism for sex and/or the genitals.

C) Make all of the sex! (Bonus points for role-playing as: “It’s the apocalypse and we’ve been running for our lives for hours, yet somehow my makeup and hair is perfect and I’m scared but all we have is each other and this moment so take me now, you brute, and put a bullet in my head if I go Full Zombie.”)

D) Eat absolutely every singly thing in the refrigerator out of fear and necessity.

While digging through a kitchen drawer in a desperate effort to find double-A batteries for the remote control you stumble upon various, long-forgotten relics of Girlfriend Past. Do you:

A) Curl up into a ball on the kitchen floor clutching everything you’ve found and shake silently until your partner gets home.

B) Shrug and continue rummaging for those batteries because this Chopped marathon isn’t going to fucking watch itself, is it?

C) Allow the fire of a thousand suns to consume you and spend the afternoon smearing the words “THIS HOUSE IS NOT A HOME” across every wall in your own blood.

D) See these relics for what they are – forgotten leftovers of abandoned love – and choose to acknowledge them as a token, a gift, a reminder that despite your fabled history, you haven’t always been the central plot point of his narrative. Allow them to remind you that he is a separate being, a vehicle of his own history, and even though you have traveled so far in this life together, you remain in the passenger seat, navigating but not steering. What matters now are the lessons he brought with him in the trunk and how soon you guys are going to stop for snacks on this new journey of yours.

S.

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