She seemed to think best over food. Taking another bite of the cheesecake she had so guiltily bought from Safeway, she considered her relationship and how best to define it.
Love was telling him to play StarCraft 2 with his friends, she thought. It wasn't like he had been doing nothing but playing video games for the past few weeks, all while complaining about the growing mound of homework he still had yet to do. Not that she was bitter or anything. (And, in truth, he had spent some quality time with her. But the majority of his free time was spent shooting things and talking more to people he never knew than to her. This made her nervous, again considering his track record.)
It wouldn't be so frustrating if they didn't live together. They were three months into their one-year lease, a decision that had been necessary at the time but sometimes now seemed rushed. They had started sleeping together a couple days after they first met, and he had harbored her when she was kicked out of her own home. She fell in love, and he wanted to keep her, but they couldn't stay where they were. So now they were here. She sometimes secretly longed to be back home.
But most of the time she was comfortable here. It was a wonderful apartment, and they didn't have too many problems with their roommate (except for the insane amount of toilet paper she and her girlfriend went through. It was bad enough to call for an ultimatum). He was, for the most part, great to her, and every once in a while went on cleaning sprees and cooked nice meals. He loved to cuddle, and the sex was great. For some reason, though, she just couldn't let the past go.
Sighing about how the cheesecake would go straight to her thighs, she tried to distract herself from the truth. She always was her own worst enemy, and this was no exception -- the relationship, not the dessert. Her own mind would poison the relationship until she learned to accept things as they were. Maybe happy endings didn't exist. Maybe it was just about the happiest ending one could get.
Love was telling him to play StarCraft 2 with his friends, she thought. It wasn't like he had been doing nothing but playing video games for the past few weeks, all while complaining about the growing mound of homework he still had yet to do. Not that she was bitter or anything. (And, in truth, he had spent some quality time with her. But the majority of his free time was spent shooting things and talking more to people he never knew than to her. This made her nervous, again considering his track record.)
It wouldn't be so frustrating if they didn't live together. They were three months into their one-year lease, a decision that had been necessary at the time but sometimes now seemed rushed. They had started sleeping together a couple days after they first met, and he had harbored her when she was kicked out of her own home. She fell in love, and he wanted to keep her, but they couldn't stay where they were. So now they were here. She sometimes secretly longed to be back home.
But most of the time she was comfortable here. It was a wonderful apartment, and they didn't have too many problems with their roommate (except for the insane amount of toilet paper she and her girlfriend went through. It was bad enough to call for an ultimatum). He was, for the most part, great to her, and every once in a while went on cleaning sprees and cooked nice meals. He loved to cuddle, and the sex was great. For some reason, though, she just couldn't let the past go.
Sighing about how the cheesecake would go straight to her thighs, she tried to distract herself from the truth. She always was her own worst enemy, and this was no exception -- the relationship, not the dessert. Her own mind would poison the relationship until she learned to accept things as they were. Maybe happy endings didn't exist. Maybe it was just about the happiest ending one could get.
