Recently my crazy reading, usually stable, if not flat-lining, has climbed to a level not seen since high school. Ever since the want-to-move-in-sort-of-hypothetical-but-maybe-not speech given by Re-Boyfriend, every word and action suddenly seems fraught subtext. And on my end, the subtext is “I’m crazy.”

CB: I have to change before we go out tonight.
I feel ugly and restless.

Re-B: No, don’t go home! You look fine.

CB: I have to go home, I want to change.
Fine? I look fine? Ohmigod I really do need to change.

Re-B: You’re right. I would be embarrassed to be seen with you.

CB: Hahahahahaha.
FUCK YOU.

Re-B: What are you going to wear?

CB: I don’t know…you want to pick something out?
You want to pick out my clothing? You think you own me?

Re-B: Not really.

CB: But I don’t know what to wear.
Why won’t you just tell me? If I come back over in something you hate, you won’t tell me I look nice and then I’ll want to cry and ohmigod I think I might cry right now. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. WHY ARE WE FIGHTING?

Re-B: Just come here. [Pats adjacent area on sofa.]

CB: Okay.
But I don’t want to watch television.

[Sits on sofa as Re-B slides an arm around her shoulders and resumes watching television.]

Five minutes pass.

Re-B: Come on. Let’s go for a walk.

CB: I don’t really feel like it.
When you want to go for a walk, I have to go for a walk? Maybe I want to watch television now.

[CB pouts.]

Re-B: Why are you being like this? What’s wrong?

CB: Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t feel like going for a walk.
Can’t I just not want to go for a walk? God.

Re-B: Okay. You want to stay here and watch a movie?

CB: No. I want to go home and change.
And if I sit here one second longer I am going to blurt out that I want to break up with you which I know is crazy talk but I CAN’T CONTROL IT and ohmigod WHAT IF I AM PREGNANT.

Re-B: Fine. [Retracts arm from shoulder]

CB: Are you mad? Why are you mad?
Ohmigod he is going to break up with me.

Re-B: No, you’re just being—I don’t understand what’s wrong.

CB: Nothing’s wrong.
He’s totally going to break up with me. I will die.

Re-B: Okay. [Pulls in CB for a hug]

CB (muffled, into Re-B’s armpit): I have to go home and change.
Stop smothering me!



The full realization of my craziness came last night during dinner with my mother. As I enumerated Re-Boyfriend’s various flaws, my voice was raised, my arms were flailing and I was in full-on entertaining-but-ultimately-true-tirade mode when I exclaimed “And he is LUCKY that I am so LAID-BACK!”

I paused, sensing something was off about the delivery of that statement. My mom looked at me and we both started laughing hysterically.

I really used to be laid-back though. I don’t know what happened.