I was annoyed that he had been assigned to my car for the road trip instead of the boy I liked. On a snow day, he invited me to see the movie Alive. We kissed on the playground in the snow under the jungle gym. He wore a pink tie and cummerbund to prom to match my dress.
Non-romantic relationship in two sentences:
No one causes me so much joy. No one causes me so much pain.
She loved me completely. I didn't appreciate her enough until it was too late.
The sex was absolutely insane. Unfortunately, so was she.
I had never been crueller, or more enthralled. She was there whenever I wanted, until the day she wasn't.
He called me his beautiful goddess, in ancient Egyptian.
During consecutive summers, we spent two weeks sneaking about, searching for spots on Appalachian State's campus secluded enough to explore each other's bodies. The year between was stacks of letters full of promises, photographs, and song lyrics. The last time I saw her, she was dancing topless at Myrtle Beach and dating the club's bouncer. The goodbye sex was lovely and bittersweet and then my ex-girlfriend attacked us in the shower.
She would tease me about my social ineptitude, calling me a "high-functioning autistic." I thought this was a lovely compliment, and bragged to my friends, "She thinks I'm high-functioning."
She was a lifeguard and in a band. She left me for another swimmer. Thank God I dont have to see her band again!
A paragraph is too easy. I like the "thirty words or less" requirement that people in this thread seem to be following better.
He called me his beautiful goddess, in ancient Egyptian.
While we made love, I confessed that I was sleeping with her sister. I only had the balls to say it in ancient Egyptian.
Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery.
One, two, three, four; I told her that I loved her more. She told me that I would be happier with an iPod.
10: Yes. (Weirder: was the second guy I dated that could read hierogylphs.)
This is fun.
"This is the sort of story that ends with you dead under a bear." We married.
What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. The Beatles. And me.
I was absolutely certain we'd stay together forever. We didn't. I still think we could have.
One of us always wanted more than the other. I knew it was serious when I left the room after a make-out session and found her reading a comic book when I returned. It both burned out and faded away.
After four dates, I moved to Africa to be with her. We have a happy life in the suburbs now. She completes me.
"For sale, baby shoes engagement ring, never used."
8: Um, dancing topless in Myrtle Beach? When was this? After my breakup, I spent the summer in Myrtle Beach, and I might have gone to a strip club or three...
Folks, there's an entire artistic genre devoted to summarizing relationships in a single irony-infused paragraph: it's called "country music".
Viz:
On one hand I count the reasons I could stay with you And hold you close to me, all night long. So many lover's games I could play with you and on that hand I see no reason why it's wrong But on the other hand, There's a golden band To remind of someone who would not understand On one hand I could stay and be your loving man But the reason I must go is on the other hand
(Randy Travis, On the Other Hand)
Over 7 years, we fooled around and dated other people. We were never willing and able to date each other at the same time. Now we never will. It's right for the future, but it was a mistake in the past.
This distributor
Cap is from my ex-girlfriend's
El Camino. Bitch.
Um, dancing topless in Myrtle Beach? When was this?
Late 80s. Don't know the name of the club.
She was full of surprises, until finally nothing could surprise me.
She was full of infections, until finally nothing could infect me.
Oh, fuck, the E stopped working.
She wanted to be more than just a friend with benefits, but never said so until it was too late. Now she won't speak to me at all.
She was my dream girl, and I married her best friend.
She wasn't aware we were in a relationship.
34: Yikes, unfogged is become postsecret.
27: Oh, OK then. I was there in 2003. Definitely not the same woman.
She grew to love my family, but lost her love for me.
She was from the Niagara Falls area. You wouldn't have know her.
She like overly-reductive word exercises. I found them annoying.
He brought her coffee in bed after the first night she stayed over. She had known he would. The predictability grew tiresome, even when the things predicted were pleasant.
I became irritated with her laugh, so I stopped making jokes.
She bet me I couldn't summarize our relationship in two words. I said, "you lose."
I buried her in the crawlspace because I thought ex-before-last might be getting lonely.
The last time I saw her, she was dancing topless
And you felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the lace of you shoe?
We had a lovely spring and summer. Then came the Fall.
He was my twin. We finished each other's sentences. We ran out of things to say.
I told her I loved her and she not only didn't reciprocate, she broke it off. Apparently I had misunderstood.
I told her I loved her and she not only didn't reciprocate, she broke it off. Apparently I had misunderstood.
50: Did you get it surgically reattached?
After three years, she decided to settle for me. I'd gotten what I'd wanted and said no.
"My darling, lay your head upon my lap. I am not happy and yet you suffice. Candlestick or meteor, there is no longer a stout heart or future on earth. The course of twilight reveals your murmur, bed of mint and rosemary, confidences exchanged between the russets of autumn and your thin robe. You are the soul of the mountain with its deep sides, its rocks silent behind lips of clay. Let the wings of your nose twitch. Let your hand close the path and draw together the curtain of trees. My darling, in the presence of the two stars, the frost and the wind, I place in you all my fallen hopes, for one victorious thistle of the rapacious solitude."
He was my twin. We finished each other's sentences. We ran out of things to say.
This would be awkward if the first sentence were literal.
She thought I was the quiet type. Then she heard me on the phone with an ex. The beginning of the end.
Also, per somebody's instructions of the other day:
Thirteen and a Half Ways of Looking at Jonah Goldberg
I.
In the haunted thoughts of Jonah Goldberg
The only hallowed thing
Was the fear of the Clintons.
II.
He was of two minds,
Like an Enterprise
On which there were two captains.
III.
The Goldberg flailed at the keyboard,
Pantomimed the smallness of his parts.
IV.
A liberal and a fascist
Are one.
A liberal and a fascist
And a schoolteacher are one.
V.
I know which to prefer:
The beauty of the war
Is the beauty of Bush.
You'd better agree now
Or at least soon.
VI.
Nachos filled his belly
With barbaric gas.
The shadow of the liberal
And the liberal's girlfriend
Ruined his mood.
Stupid liberals
And their exclusive parties.
VII.
O liberals of America,
Why do you propose high taxes?
Do you not see how George Bush
Walks around
Like he owns the place?
VIII.
I know your colleges
And lattes, unimpeachable suburbs,
But you know, too,
That I know,
And I am sore afraid.
IX.
When National Review
First published me,
It marked the end
Of Bill Buckley's self-respect.
X.
At the sight of liberals
Strutting in Congress
Even Michael Oakeshott
Would cry out sharply.
XI.
Heroes of conservatism
Include mothers, soldiers,
People in the shouting industries generally.
My mother scared me once,
Told Derb
About my experimentation.
XII.
His lips are moving.
He must be trying to think.
XIII.
It was afternoon in America.
It was Clinton
And it was going to be Clinton.
Giuliani sat
In the right people's hands.
XIII 1/2.
Losing is winning.
Jonah has, brings,
Bad luck.
She thought I was the quiet type. Then she heard me on the phone with an ex. The beginning of the end.
Yea, not all women like to hear naughty sex talk.
59- I was comfortably capable with the one to two liners, but she needed sonnets and villanelles.
We went to a Hall & Oates concert.
all night she was pensive
finally, she told me she was seeing read
we both cried
She broke my eardrum. Later, when she pleaded with me not to leave her, I couldn't quite make out what she was saying.
I went to a party because my wife's boyfriend was coming over. She was in lingerie, on a leash, and I didn't catch any of her three names. We science-flirted online. When my wife left, she told her to take good care of me. She took good care of me and stuck with me through a lot of my bullshit that she didn't deserve. So we had a very scientific wedding. She has more personal integrity than anyone I've ever met.
Second draft:
For six years, I couldn't figure out how to leave and stay away. Finally, she told me to leave and then come back. Close enough.
1. She was annoyed that I hoped for a relationship.
2. She was highly amused that I hoped for a relationship.
3. She only likes me when I'm not there, so I stay away as much as possible.
4. She trusted me, but I no longer trusted myself.
This thread's been read as it should: to the sound of The National's Boxer.
(And 59, while OT, is fucking brilliant. Damn fine show, Flippanter.)
I've done all mine in limericks, and no, I'm not showing them to you. But they're really good.
68: Thanks, SEK. I hope others like it, too, if the Kafka thread hasn't killed this one off.
I have a question about 65: what's "science-flirted" mean? Just innuendo that you'd have to be an engineer to get, or something?
He told me he loved me and wanted to marry me one day. He picked out names for our kids. He bought me a ring inscribed "pour tous jours." He said he was glad that we were friends and acted surprised that I thought we were dating. I was very confused.
I met her playing tennis. "Shall we Sharapova?" she asked. "Only on a Davenport," I answered. The rest was her fault.
davenport
n. small writing table; American sort of settee, especially convertible into bed.
We used to have sex. We still do, but we used to, too.
I thought he was nice. He thought he was doing me a favor. We were both wrong.
We used to have sex. We still do, but we used to, too just not with each other.
Okay, that failed miserably. Strike "but we used to, too."
We always say, 'Not next week, but the week after that'
Okay, that failed miserably.
That one is perfect!
This covers all of them, I think:
We had sex. He instantly became moody and [violent / irritable / depressed / impotent / needy]. I stayed with him for [period of time] in the hopes of more sex.
"He's nice, and very handsome," said my mom.
There was a moment where had we become lovers, like all our friends had expected, we surely would have gone on to become one of those cute old couples who still hold hands after fifty years of marriage.
The moment passed.
The first time I met him, he was looking the other way.
I found his blog and wasted a lot of time.
Is Will a different person from will? I'm confused.
One is battered and beaten. The other is fresh faced and happy.
90, I saw a movie about that relationship.
"I think of that army of cowards with their appetites for dictatorship that will perhaps be seen again in power, in this forgetful country, by those will survive this time of damned algebra."
She wasn't from, and we weren't in, Tennessee, but:
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild....
93: I was thinking "Me and You and Everyone We Know". Obviously based on the lives of many of us here.
It took me 13 years (during 7 of which we were together, off and on) to realize that when he said he wanted marriage and kids but not now, he meant not with me. At the end, when I was leaving, he said he'd settle for me, but it was too little too late.
I met her in a club down in old Soho. Things turned out differrently than I'd expected.
I'm not sure what you think a "limerick" is, AWB, but let me assure you that your 82 does not contain one.
I called him Kobe, he called me Ogged. But when I beat him at HORSE, it was all over.
It's the theme of all the limericks, which are unsharably obscene, simplified.
Online, we pretended to hate one another, but in private it was a different story.
There were two things I did not know: that a woman that beautiful would give me the time of day and that a woman that beautiful could have a penis.
We had sex. He instantly became moody and [violent / irritable / depressed / impotent / needy]. I stayed with him for [period of time] in the hopes of more sex.
Have you considered meeting people online in search of purely sexual relationships, instead of trying to establish purely sexual relationships with people who want some sort of romantic relationship?
101: I knew it wasn't going to end well when she laughed at my "that". I was right.
102: Thanks for clearing that up for me, AWB. I was afraid I was going to have to go over to Standpipe's blog for an explanation.
105: Auto-banned is banned!
105: No, I don't swing that way. Thanks, though.
You know what we could do? We could have a whole thread in verse! Maybe a simple rhyme pattern, where each comment has to rhyme with the comment before? Once we've practised that a bit we can move on to more complicated verse schemes. Okay, start!
Okay, start!
I offered her my car, my car keys, my heart.
I suggest a pattern--aba, bcb, like that.
or shortly we'll be using words like "fart"
We always had fun together, but eventually I resented being the only grown-up in the room.
Love. Hate.
Now, I done told ya twice already.
Sounds like an interesting relationship, Chopper.
Jesus (no, not you), this sort of exercise has intrigued me for a long time. Were you to try to write a third person account of yourself and other involved persons through a given period of time, how would you write yourself? I keep thinking Anais Nin -- not the diaries. More like Ladders to Fire and so on. Short, bold strokes.
God (no, not you), I am not proposing people try such a thing here. Still, it's always interested me.
Also: Flippanter, I sung a song of you today for #59. Maybe it's because Stevens was the reason I damn near didn't pass my qualifiers, but what you wrote up there stuck with me all day. Beats w-lfs-n's villanelle to bloody bits.
72: Roughly, grew to like one another while talking about sciencey things (and Lego) interleaved with "hi you're cute" "hi you're married" "my wife told me to tell you she doesn't mind" "i guess since you're married i don't have to worry about this getting serious" etc, all on an obscure chat system.
Fucking kids.
Actually, if you made that two one-word sentences, it would be a pretty fair summation of my current relationship.
Beats w-lfs-n's villanelle to bloody bits.
I am in awe of Flippanter and w-lfs-n and alameida and everybody else. I truly love language, but I love it the way I love music - that is, I'm educated enough to appreciate it somewhat, but not educated enough to produce it in any satisfactory fashion.
all on an obscure chat system
No need to be so coy. Was it ntalk? ytalk?
You flatter me, SEK.
I'm trying to, but only because you deserve it.
Were you to try to write a third person account of yourself and other involved persons through a given period of time, how would you write yourself?
I would call myself "Horselover Fat."
As for my own description of a relationship in thirty words or less: "She wanted everything. I gave her nothing. Anyway, she had a nice house."
I'm trying to, but only because you deserve it.
Oh, blush.
She was beautiful, smart, and funny. And Mormon.
She said I should have been thinking of her. Yes, I said - I should have.
She told me she didn't love me enough. Every hour of every day I wish she did.
128: Don't despair, Flip. You've got SEK now.
Third draft:
We could have been kinder to each other. We should have been kinder to each other. It wouldn't have changed the ending, but it would have made getting there less hurtful.
Hmm...
It started at a concert, surrounded by our friends. She had one of the warmest smiles I've seen and a personality to match. We should have had a great friendship, but instead ended up with a pleasant, lukewarm relationship. It ended over a concert, but by then we were all alone.
JRoth, every one you've come up with has been heartbreaking.
JRoth, every one you've come up with has been heartbreaking.
Thanks, I think. But it's OK, because:
Where I am now is perfect.
Oops, 34 was me, but I should clarify that that's actually, as with JRoth, a happy ending.
She was done with the relationship ten months before it actually ended. In that time, we lived together, got a cat together, but never talked about our problems. It took me a year (and a WTF moment on our "anniversary") to get over her.
She broke up with me and later started dating a good friend of mine. I was a total asshole after that.
He wrote: "Why did I get an F in this course?"
I answered: "Because you got a 50 on the final, and your midterm average was a 60, and you failed to turn in 9 out of 13 homework assignments."
He wrote back: "I don't see why my homework average was so low."
I answered: "According to the grader, you failed to turn in 9 out of 13 assignments. If this is not the case, please let me know and we can recalibrate your grade."
He wrote back: "But I had a B on my midterm grade. If you give me an F I will have to retake this class in the spring."
Me: "I understand."
It's the same old story, only the names have changed.
Yes. It's always ironic, by which I mean irritating, that the same kids who complain that they understood the material and deserve a higher grade don't understand percents well enough to calculate their own grade.
I missed this thread while travelling. But 137 just happened to me (unsurprisingly). How about:
- It didn't take us long to figure out we were both doing this mostly to hurt other people.
- When you live in different cities, it can take years to figure out it ended.
We met at work. I was married, he was married, so nothing was going to happen. I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone else. Not enough to leave my family for, though.
- He broke up with me after a month, and then passed out in my bed, and I was so pissed off that I poured a glass of water in his ear. He woke up.
- I was desperately afraid to be single, and so I stayed in the relationship and doggedly stuck my head in the sand about the impact of his perpetual moodiness and southern baptism.
- Boy did I love his family. Why couldn't he be more like them?
my fiance married a younger model
while i was abroad doing my PhD
i don't blame him
it's dramatic and could be a nice plot of something
readable
my fiance married a younger model
As in read 2.0 or as in six feet tall and lollipop-shaped?
i don't know they are all very similar
137: If you give me an F I will have to retake this class in the spring.
Don't know what course you teach, but as this seems to be a variant of the Fallacy of Argumentation from Adverse Consequences think of it as a teaching opportunity.
Don't know what course you teach, but as this seems to be a variant of the Fallacy of Argumentation from Adverse Consequences think of it as a teaching opportunity.
It's a precalculus class, but if you want I could give him your e-mail address.
i like the image of six feet tall and lollipop-shaped me
he's not a man of superficial preferences, his choice is sure worth his decision
It's always ironic, by which I mean irritating, that the same kids who complain that they understood the material and deserve a higher grade don't understand percents well enough to calculate their own grade.
I think maybe you should point this out to them.
read congrats on the mouseover text.
152: He e-mailed me out of the blue with some weird threat of adverse consequences or some shit. I figured out that he got my name and e-mail from my pre-calc prof. I filed a grievance and got my grade raised to a C and I didn't have to retake the course.
I didn't intend to fall in love with her. We were very different and argued often. She wasn't my type. She was the best friend I have ever had. I have never been as happy as I was with her. I wanted to try even though it was inevitable that it would end badly. It ended badly even though we tried. I think about her all the time.
But 137 just happened to me (unsurprisingly).
Well apply yourself a little more next semester, soup, and you'll probably get a passing grade.
So, I whisper in your ear, I think I love you. He wrote. Woman, sister, girl child love, do not be afraid of what I do.
Where did you go? He asked.
Here, hold this. He commanded.
The truth is that it was the first time in a very long time I loved the boy and the man, that trickster fool, that arrogant romantic. Friend!