Oh haha. I thought you were ick-ing the line I quoted. Yeah I guess the line you quoted is way grosser. I once had a girlfriend whom I lived with in my early twenties. I never really wanted to live with her, but circumstance kind of forced me into it for a time. I was thinking about dumping her, then one day I came home and there were a couple bridal magazines on the coffee table. I got the fuck out in short order.
I moved into her place, actually. Here's how it went: we had been dating a couple years, and I was living at my mom's house during a period between roommates. Then, my grandpa got kicked out of like his third nursing home. So, gramps had no place to go while they searched for a new place. So, I lost my room briefly, and I decided I would stay at my gf's place for a couple weeks as opposed to sleeping on the couch. Then, a couple weeks went by, grandpa was moved to a new home, but somehow, moving out became a lot harder. She really pressured me to stay, and I ended up getting used to it, got complacent, then a year went by like nothing. Finally, I woke up from that bad dream and hightailed it. In the end, the wedding mags were a good thing, because they became a catalyst for me to get on with my life.
That is a good thing. Sometimes I think back on past relationships and I wonder if I got more out of them than the girls I was in them with, in that when they've finished I usually have learned something about myself and how I think about the world. Ladies, come to me! I wish to learn more about myself by studying our seemingly inevitable mutual misery and heartache!