he doesn’t look a thing like jesus

I finished The Office.

It seems so mundane and ordinary, but it was something special for me. I remember laying on the couch with  my former boyfriend and laughing until our sides hurts. Some of the show wasn’t as funny as others, but some just caused giggles for days. One of my favorite parts of the show was Pam and Jim. I suppose that is cliche. Their angst and characters was relatable.

You wanted what they had, because the love they showed for each other was spectacular.  It was unwavering.

When we first started it, I was a senior in high school and he was a freshman in university. I spent the weekends at his house. We didn’t watch The Office, because he didn’t like to binge watch things. I prefer to binge watch shows. I would come over in the early mornings, sometimes a bit before 8:00 a.m. or 10:00 a.m.; it depended on when my mom had to work. She would drop me off on the way. It was easy.

Sometimes on the mornings before 8:00 a.m., the door would open to a sleepy face. His eyes would crinkle on the sides as he put his arms around my waist, and ever so slowly, he would kiss me. He tugged me through the house where he would cajole to take a nap with him. “One hour,” I promised.

His mother didn’t cook. Finally, venturing from his cave, we would hunt for food. During this time I was a vegetarian, and a picky–still am–eater. We would walk in circles to decided what to eat, but we both knew, we would be eating the cheese pizza from Walmart. Sometimes, if they had the ingredients, we would make macaroni and cheese. We made great macaroni and cheese.

Sometimes, if his sister was home, we could invite her to join us. All of this is mundane. From us watching Netflix to us eating together. After the night we went our separate ways, I couldn’t bring myself to continue with The Office. He had contaminated it.

Finishing it was a big thing for me, because for some odd reason it helped me realize I didn’t actually need him to do anything. I would be okay. I yearned for happiness like Jim and Pam had, but part of me didn’t; I wanted to create my own happiness with my own Jim. For a while, I had to fake my laughs, or sometimes, I felt guilty laughing.

Now, my laughter comes freely. I am okay, even though some days are dark.

 

Love,

E. E.

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