I’m going to give you some advice I suggest you heed.
Don’t rock the boat!
If you have yourself a man/boy-friend and it’s good -- not just good to the point where you haven’t found anything better, but good to the point where you’re not even looking -- then don’t think for whatever reason that the grass will be greener on any other side that you might come across.
Take if from a girl who has fallen for fake grass more than a time too many, it is never greener.
And now, just as I had to last year with Connecticut and Arch Enemy, I have to remind myself of just that.
Don’t get your panties in a bunch, though, because the Minimalist and I are still sailing smoothly. We’re peachy keen, over the moon, and disgustingly happy. But there’s also Misfit*.
I met Misfit when he wrote for my section in the newspaper. He asked for my number under the guise of needing my help, and then invited me to his place under the guise of wanting me to go over his draft with him. Things evolved from there, thanks in part to GoodMan telling him that the Minimalist and I were a thing of the past.
While Misfit is undeniably wonderful and attractive and intelligent and a whole host of other favorable adjectives, I’m not convinced that his lawn is any better than the Minimalist’s. Ginger suggested a pro/con list and while normally I’m a not-so-closested list-lover, I can’t begin to compare them because they’re so completely different.
Misfit and I shop at a natural foods co-op. The Minimalist and I screw with freshman boys.
Misfit meditates. The Minimalist drinks.
Both make me laugh.
Once again, don’t take this as any kind of confession of feelings or intentions. Take this as what it is—advice on how to handle a situation that will undoubtedly spring up at some point, and one that I will never know how to handle.
If only Twin was here to tell me what to do this time…
*Misfit-GoodMan’s former roommate.