How to Not

The Boyfriend

So, just to get started, my name is Lucy. I'm 23. I have no known skills other than trolling fashion advertisements on Facebook. I work at a paint store. My cat, Albert, is dead. What that has to do with this story? Nothing. Just thought you should know. I live like any other person would. I get up, go to work, sometimes shower, go home, watch Game of Thrones, and go to sleep next to my boyfriend. Yes, I have a boyfriend, no I did not abduct him; Stockholm Syndrome is not at play here. But just like everyone else on this floating space rock we sorta like, I have drama in my life. However, I am not a normal person in how I respond to drama. Enter this blog/post/web-series/whatever.

Two years ago I met my now boyfriend; again, he was not captured, he came willingly. We were both still in college and we were not at all friends beforehand. What had happened was he moved in with my two closest friends at the time, also known as, "The Vegans." Now, I, being a senior in college, made it my past time for two or so years to permanently indent the shape of my drunken body on their futon. This is where Carl and I met. I think I missed him moving in during a particularly heavy month of vodka and when I woke up he was just there. I didn't care for this new environment. I had a nice thing with the previous roommate because he was never there. Carl was always there. Most people would have been fine with this change. Most people would have just continued their lives. But this newcomer was encroaching on my turf (I didn't live there) and I, being overly dramatic, wanted to do something about it (I didn't). As time moved past and school projects demanded my (partial) sobriety, I actually found the intruder funny. Not just funny. Kind of, sexy, in a weird viking with no table manners kind of way. I could be his milkmaid, and he could be my viking, and together we could have the best HGTV show about decorating igloos beyond the North Wall in Westeros. But fantasy aside, action had to happen. Two weeks into this new dynamic, I drunk texted him. The following conversation went a little like this...

"Hey, wannnncha cuddle???"

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

"WHAQT? THIS IS LUCKYYY DUH. I'm on the wsay back to your plave from yhe bar. Vehans gave me lift"

"Ok, glad you aren't driving. Sure we can cuddle."

"Cool. Case I want to cuddle. The vegans have their thing and you're ather roomate is just gross........So then there's u."

I don't recall getting a text after that. Later Carl did say he was expecting it to be a one-night stand sort of situation and that we would never do it again. However, what actually happened was I crawled out of the backseat of the beatdown old car the Vegans used, made it up three flights of stairs, fell asleep against the front door waiting for it to be unlocked, pushed past the Vegans like a running back (I don't know football), and went straight into Carl's room. Carl, of course was there, waiting for some sort of sexy time. What he got was a completely wasted Lucy walking three steps towards him, grumble something like "Buzzfeed Sucks," slam her body on his mattress, and begin to snore.

We started dating a week later. I'm sure the futon became lonely. Or not, it's just furniture.