Have you heard of accidental relationships?
You go on a date or two and you’re just happy to have someone to talk to, so you keep talking to them, and then you’re in a relationship. And it becomes all formal because at six months they buy you flowers and you tell everyone that you’re dating and you’re not really entirely sure what happened.
You like them but you don’t love them but you say that you love them anyways because maybe you do. It’s entirely possible that you do. And, anyways, they love you. And you certainly love being around them. There are some red flags, but you’re not perfect. You’re not perfect at all. And they still like you, what’s more love than that? Accepting someone for their flaws.
She made you a pie the other night and you’re not even really a fan of pie but you don’t tell her that. Maybe you could be the kinda guy who likes pie. It’s certainly the best pie you’ve ever had. You smile and you eat the pie and you go to bed and you wake up and she’s still there. Your friends ask you how things are going and you say they’re going pretty good, you really like this girl, she makes great pie.
Everyone tells you that you’re lucky.
It’s been a year now and you start thinking about that girl you used to date when you were younger. She broke your heart because you liked her more than she liked you. Maybe you’re just trying to give a little back to the universe.
You forget how to skateboard. You find your old pint glasses in the back of the cupboard. You haven’t played video games in a while.
She asks you how you feel about moving in together.
That’s exciting, moving in together. You must be pretty serious about this girl, you tell yourself. Everyone is gonna know you’re in a serious relationship now. Except then you realize you don’t like pie and, I don’t know, the chemistry isn’t really there anymore. You talked to Brenda in accounting about it and she said that it sounds like you’re not really in love, you’re just having a crisis. Actually the girl you’re dating isn’t even really your type. You should look for someone who makes less pie. Maybe an artisan bread maker. Brenda has been married for over 20 years and seems like she knows what she’s talking about.
You decide to move in together anyways because you really aren’t a quitter and if the relationship isn’t going to work you want to know for sure that you gave it your all. A few months later you realize that you’ve never actually seen her without makeup on. She closes the door in the morning and after an hour comes out, steam bursting behind her, the bathroom smelling like hairspray, a thin coat of powder lining the sink.
No, you’re not actually sure what color her hair is, now that you mention it. She books her Brazilians in advance and colors in her brows with different colored pencils depending on her mood. But none of that really matters. What you find particularly weird is the skin you find around the edges of the bed in the morning.
I guess it’s taken quite a while to figure out. You just kept telling yourself everything was fine. But she’s a reptile. You realize that now. “A little out of the ordinary” your friend Charlie told you. A little… different than your usual type. I guess you never saw. I guess you just sort of fell in love like that.
You don’t know why it took you two years to realize she sheds her skin and sleeps with her eyes open. Oh, god.
The next day you sit down and you hold up the giant clump of shed skin and you tell her that it’s not working anymore. This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding.