I’ve seen this a couple times on Facebook and no no no no. This is borderline abusive. Maybe a father would send this, but a boyfriend???
“It’s hard because I’ve always been a tremendously good person”
What are you implying about your girlfriend there, pal?
“When I text you, you are to answer”
Okay mom. Seriously. She’s your girlfriend, let her have fun instead of having to check her phone constantly.
Don’t patronize your partner and act like they’re your child. Going to a party doesn’t mean they value parties over you. And if you have to remind your girlfriend not to cheat multiple times maybe you should reevaluate your trust issues. Don’t give your girlfriend a fucking curfew. If you can’t trust her to be reasonable at a party to the point that you send her a fucking book of rules, then maybe you shouldn’t be together.
Seriously. Significant others aren’t your possessions/children.
Alec: Oh he texted hi. What do I do? Izzy: Say hi back! Don’t overthink it! Alec: With or without a smiley face? Izzy: Obviously put a smiley or else he might think you’re mad. But the smiley might also be too aggressive- Alec: You just said I shouldn’t overthink it! Izzy: -so just do a regular one. Not a fancy emoji one. And don’t wink, you don’t want to- Wait! Alec, where are you going? Alec: I’m going to see him. I haven’t got the time to study emojis, Izzy!
“I can never unsee that.” / “Don’t laugh. Do. Not. Laugh. This is not funny.”
Dating Alexander Hamilton was one thing. Living with him was another.
Jefferson thought it would be a good idea. Alex was always over, and when he wasn’t spending the night he was keeping him up with constant text messages. And if he failed to answer one, he’d get a phone call. It was exhausting, Jefferson would have to admit, but it was endearing, especially when he woke up to the latest message being, “You fell asleep on me, jackass.”
He thought it’d be easier to control Alex if he was physically there. From his experience in the past, whenever Alex was feeling restless he could easily scoop him up, carry him to bed and hold him down until he finally fell asleep. He was hoping that that was still the case and he could finally get his proper beautyrest.
Turns out it was still a technique that worked well, and Jefferson found that he could sleep before midnight. What surprised him was his capability to wake up before Hamilton, especially when the latter was notorious for being frighteningly chipper in the morning. Maybe it was the coffee, and the lack of caffeine was making him groggy.
He groaned when Jefferson shifted, holding his arm in place over his chest to keep him in bed. “Don’t go,” he whined.
“You’re telling me that the man who never sleeps is trying to keep me in bed?” he teased, chuckling at the irony. He felt Alexander’s hands tighten around his arm and could practically see the frown on his face despite facing the back of his head. He kissed his crown, relieved when the grip on his arm loosened. “I’ll make coffee,” he offered.
“If it’s anything like your macaroni, I guess I’ll go without the energy boost today,” Alex mumbled.
“Are you going to get up to make it?” Jefferson inquired.
Alex was silent.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He slipped his arm out of Alexander’s grasp and ignored his protests, which was made up of a series of whines, getting louder as he stepped out of bed and began to walk away. “What are you, a cat in heat? You’re making me regret getting out of bed.” He stood by the door, his arms crossed. He knew he’d have to convince himself not to succumb to Alex, even if it was difficult.
“Then come back,” Alex said, pawing at him.
Jefferson shook his head to resist the temptation. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ll come back for you once the coffee is ready.” He rolled his eyes when Alex called for him before falling silent, no doubtedly going back to sleep. That was a good thing, considering how many times he ignored his own health to continue writing a paper that was likely to change the world, or so he often bragged. It wasn’t that Jefferson didn’t believe him, but he also believed that he had a swelled head that was full of too many ideas.
Alex was waiting for Jefferson to come back, inhaling the scent of his pillow and reveling in the warmth that remained from where he had been laying. When Jefferson had asked him to move in, he thought he’d back out of it. They had known each other for years, and despite their first encounters being full of tension and clashing opinions, their young relationship of only a few months had gone by smoothly. Alexander was surprised when he asked him to live with him, worried that they’d start arguing when having to share such a close space, but it didn’t seem Jefferson had any intentions of kicking him out. He was grateful, but he was also terrified if they ever started to fall out.
He sat up with a start when he heard a frustrated cry from down the hall. He wondered if Jefferson had accidentally burned himself, or maybe he had dropped a mug. But Alex didn’t hear any glass shattering. “Thomas?” He abandoned the comfort of the bed and snuck to the door, peeking down the narrow hallway. “Thomas, are you alright?” he called.
“I’m fine,” came the struggled response. That sounded closer than the kitchen, and Alex realized that the bathroom light was on.
“You don’t sound fine,” Alex said, making his way to the bathroom. The door was slightly opened so he couldn’t possibly be intruding on his privacy. Unless Jefferson wasn’t considering that Alex would bother him. “I’m coming in,” he announced as he pushed the door open. He was praying that Jefferson wasn’t on the toilet. It was a situation neither of them wanted.
Fortunately, Jefferson was standing in front of a mirror, fighting with a brush that had tangled itself in his curls. He glared at Alexander, who stood wide eyed in the doorway. “Don’t laugh. Do. Not. Laugh. This is not funny,” he growled.
Alexander shut his mouth when he realized he was gaping, glancing away to avoid further flustering his boyfriend. “Does… Does that happen a lot?” he asked, unable to swallow the small giggle that followed. He placed his hand over his mouth apologetically, though his grin didn’t subside.
As much as Jefferson wanted to come off as angered, his embarrassment overwhelmed him and he sighed. “More times than I’d like to admit.” He rolled his eyes when Alex stifled a laugh. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help?” he demanded.
Alex shifted inside the cramped space, not that he minded being so close to Jefferson. He reached up, having to stand on his toes just to reach the brush, and gently began to separate the thick locks from the brush’s teeth. “I can never unsee that,” he said as he pulled the brush away, careful that he didn’t tug on a single strand of hair. “You know, it’s different seeing you as the damsel in distress.”
“Funny, considering how many times I’ve had to pick you up.” He reiterated his point by scooping Alexander into his arms, carrying him bridal style. Alex huffed, but made no attempt to struggle out of his grasp, even placing his hand on his chest to keep himself in place.
“You’re lucky I don’t haven’t had my coffee to have the energy to deal with this,” he muttered.
Jefferson hummed, leaning down to kiss him, smiling as the favor was returned. “Don’t worry, I still owe you coffee.” He walked towards the kitchen, wondering just how far he could get before Alex demanded to be released.
Where do forgotten thoughts go?
Maybe it escapes to your dreams
and hides in limbo as you drift to sleep;
or it hangs in the air of your bedroom
and the moist on your bathroom mirror
when you get up in the morning;
maybe it lingers in between the pages
of the book you never got to finish
and the ones you haven’t even opened;
or it sleeps with the dust covering your furniture
and crevices of the sofa you used to sit on;
maybe it swims in the cup of coffee you had for breakfast
and the bottle of liquor you drank for dinner;
or it swirls in the drag of smoke from your cigarette
and your cold breath caused by the midnight chill;
maybe it fills the words of unwritten texts
and the messages you failed to send;
or it lives in unanswered questions
and old conversations you never deleted;
maybe it lies at the bottom of your box of letters
and the drawer you have kept locked;
or it rests in the crumpled paper in the trash bin
and the handwritten phone number scrawled on it;
maybe it dwells in your unfinished sketches
and doodles at the back of your notebook;
or it resides in the polaroid photographs on your wall
and the picture frames on your bedside table;
maybe it remains on the bench at the park
and the folds of a newspaper that you left behind;
or it goes to different places to be lost
and in the end finds its way back to you.