The Breakup Stories.

She liked to imagine breaking up with him, and that usually made her feel like a pretty shitty girlfriend.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, or that she even wanted to break up with him. No, she liked to imagine that she loved him to death. And most times she could rationalize with herself, and those times she knew damn well that she loved him– because there were a lot of different kinds of love, but that was always an argument she postponed for a later day.

The consequences were always potentially alarming.

But right, the imaginary breakups.

She sort of had the idea that they stemmed from some kind of bizarre insecurity that was the staple of her personality. She couldn’t really remember a point in time that she had ever been confident in herself, comfortable in her own skin.

Apparently, that insecurity just managed to manifest itself in several different bizarre and entertaining ways.

Or, she was just some kind of lunatic.

But at least her mind was always busy.

One of her favorite fantasies: INFIDELITY.

She would sneak into his apartment, smiling hugely, intent on surprising him with a visit from his favorite girl...

She crept down the hallway to his door, ninja-like, and then paused, frowning. Did she hear–? No. No way! It was impossible, she tried to convince herself. The results of an overactive imagination. And insecurity. Stupid insecurity. (No, the irony never eluded her, either.)

So why aren’t you going in?

Because I’m having a stupid mental psycho-ward escapee argument with myself! Shut up!

Satisfied that the other voice in her head had dulled to an irritated mutter, she opened the door–

Slowly! Slowly!

She peeked inside the room, and stared.

Well. There he was. And there she was. And– well, wasn’t that an interesting position?

Several different scenarios ran through her head. She considered filming it, and then making him a movie plus a breakup soundtrack... or submitting the movie to the film students.... Ah. No recorder. Scratch that. She then considered screaming incoherently at the both of them, or at least perhaps sitting them down and giving him a chance to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like and he was just.... looking for his jump drive. In her crotch.

She cleared her throat instead.

They both jumped. Josh (goddamn bastard he was) swore and rolled off of– good lord, what was her name? Andrea?– who was very preoccupied with shrieking and wriggling down under the sheets. He ran his hand through his hair, eyes wide and darting around the room, searching for a plausible explanation.

“Er,” she said, not really knowing what to say. “Don’t let me bother you.” Wait, that wasn’t right. “I’m just on my way out. Don’t mind me.”

Ah, so we’re going for the guilt trip.

“Wait, Katie–!”

She smiled at him, brightly, and then– hightailed it out of her like the extremely brave young lady she was.

Yeah, that was one of her favorite ones, currently. Not that it ended there. There was some necessary skipping around– you know– A Few Months Later, and that kind of thing, but the point was that the dream always included extremely sinful behavior with some sort of art student with an excellent hand for– ah–

Making friends, her brain supplied helpfully.

Yeah, that.

Anyway, her favorite part was the inevitable Jealousy/”Oh my GOD what did I do? I must be some kind of huge stupid cheating idiot!” scene. It usually involved her growing her hair out long and losing some more weight and wearing that really cute navy blue sweater of hers, and making out with that art student playboy.

The catch? The huge stupid cheating idiot’s new girlfriend (yes, her name was Andrea, she decided somewhat arbitrarily) would be cheating on the huge stupid cheating idiot with the playboy. And it wouldn’t bother her (Katie, the main character) a bit, because she would have just be a purely sexual relationship with him anyway. But then her dear playboy would have sort of fallen for Andrea a little bit, and then would be crushed when he realized that Andrea did, in fact, have a boyfriend, despite her insistence otherwise. Which was the douche that had cheated on his best friend and lover, the delightful Miss Katie.

And then the huge stupid idiot would find out, because the girlfriend would find out that her lover was sleeping with her (Katie, the main character) and get all pissed off, and then she conveniently falls out of the story altogether and she (Katie, the main character) is left shagging the delectably shaggadelic art student, the huge stupid idiot is alone–

But BAM! Fantasy gone.

Because it’s just that, a fantasy.

And she doesn’t, of course, actually want to break up with him.

It’s just... an entertaining idea.

There were, of course, other good stories that she had thought up to keep herself busy.

There was the one where she breaks up with him (reminder: Josh) because she finds out that he’s related to like– some sort of magical evil dude (she never bothered to get clear on that, all that mattered was that he was evil and hot) that tricks her into having lots of really hot sex with him. But, being the really decent girl she inevitably– well, was, before the whole stupid hot sex thing started, she can’t stand to deceive her loved one, and breaks it off with him.

And then runs away with the hot evil dude and has lots of hot evil babies. In like– a harem. Because– weird borderline submissive tendencies. And she always thought that being part of a harem was kind of sexy.

So while that one was... nice, but clearly impossibly, she spent more time working on others. Although she frequently returned to that one... er, you know... for... oh whatever, whenever she needed a good hot fantasy tumble, without any stupid plot hindering her fun.

Er, actually– most of her breakup dreams went that way.

And to be more... accurate, even her dreams that weren’t about breaking up went that way.

Whatever.

There was also the one in which she decides that she’s too emotionally shallow to ever be in a meaningful relationship, and so the only decent thing to do is break it off so he can find someone that truly loves him....

That one sometimes ends with Broken Social Scene playing in the background, as she sits– like, huddled in a corner, emo style, miserable because she broke up with him like a huge stupid idiot.

Other times it ends with him convincing her of how much she really does love him.

Only, without words.

Another one of her favorites was the one where he screws her in the library.

Although– that really doesn’t have anything to do with breaking up. Unless one was to consider “breaking up” a euphemism for–

Anyway.

Of course, the very best fantasy was the breakup fantasy that focused not on the breakup, and not on the makeup, but on the mornings after. Maybe the very next day, maybe a few months later. Hell, if she’s dreaming, might as well make it a few years later, in their middle ages, before the kids wake up–

It’s early, and the sun is just beginning to shine through the shutters. She grumbles to herself, not wanting to wake up, berating herself for not closing the blinds more completely. She tries, briefly, to roll away from the light, but the weight around her waist tightens, and a breath sighs against her neck.

“It’s too early for you to be moving around,” he informed her.

“But the light–“ she complained.

He released her waist and allowed her the room to wriggle on the bed until she was laying on her back, blinking up at him with glazed, crusty eyes.

He began to laugh. “Oh, what an attractive lady I have here!” he teased, brushing his mouth across hers briefly.

She tried not to smile back up at him like the big smitten idiot she was. She grumbled incoherently and tried to roll back onto her front, away from him.

He started laughing again, and pulled her back toward him, ignoring her squawk of protest. Before she could voice her indignation, he kissed her again, this time lingeringly. He pulled back, sweetly. Always sweetly.

She gaped up at him like a fish, and he laughed again, and this time she couldn’t stop the smile.

He leaned down and put his mouth right next to her ear– “I love you, you know.”

She wrapped her arms around him, still smiling. Stupid douche she was, she never could stop smiling around him. “You’d better,” she said simply.

And in the long run, that’s what usually ended up sending her to sleep with a smile on her face.

She felt validated.

Maybe she wasn’t such a shitty girlfriend after all.