I don’t really get the chemical reason for it, and believe me, I’m almost positive this is somehow related to ovulation or bleeding or girl parts and being a woman, but once a month I flip out and am convinced that Seth is lying to me and that he was seeing a slew of other women while we were ‘courting’ (also, ‘courting, WTF?! WHO AM I!?!) and that these women are still lurking around the periphery so that if I slip up and don’t deliver the awesome Seth’s just going to go, ‘meh, she was fine, but this chick is AWESOME!’ and then I’ll be left dressed all in black listening to my old “sad songs” mix on my iTunes and Lula won’t even look at me.
And instead of duifully noting what day it is on the calendar every month and resisting the urge to imagine Seth with other women, I start to spiral out of control. And then? I go ahead and start flipping out via insane e-mails to Seth and tell him that if he likes all of these other women (fictional! mostly, I mean there were a couple of whores (they weren’t whores!) that were in his life and that he did it with, but I basically have them made up! in my head! because he was a human that had sex before me! and was not celibate in the months leading up to our ‘courtship’ WTF! and also, I wasn’t celibate either and there’s that COURTSHIP word again! I hate myself!) and Seth calmly talks me down and tries to gently tell me that I’m crazy and that just because he has had sex with other women, and that I am not the only woman he has ever loved, doesn’t make what we have right now completely special.
And then I cry. And tell him that he should just leave me now to get it over with.
And he tells me that I should take a xanax and tells me things like if I needed anything he would do it for me, like if I needed a toothpick and I’m a 1,000 miles away, that he’ll come and bring me that toothpick. And I laugh because WTF? Who needs a toothpick and thinks, hey, my boyfriend who is a 1,000 miles away should bring me that toothpick and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t love me WAAAAA.
So if this crazy feeling is what love is like? I’m so totally fucked. If it’s not and it’s actually some kind of crazy PMS/atavistic cavewoman thing to keep me paranoid and controlling about my boyfriend then sign me up for more drugs! I love drugs! I especially love drugs that make me not crazy!
Generally, I’m able to wind it all up in a couple of hours of panic usually right about the time I’m re-reading a particularly dramatic e-mail in the chain, and I get embarrassed for myself. Which is always better than feeling sorry for yourself.
I’m a lunatic.