Everything started out so beautifully. We read the same books, we had the same interests. We went on long contemplative walks and had the most stimulating study dates. “This is going to be magical” I told myself.
Well, it turns out things are always more complicated than you expect. To say he’s got baggage would be an understatement. I’ve had to start taking my car onto campus he’s got so much freaking baggage. Stuff like “unclaimed experience;” “constant attempts to reencounter death in order to face one’s own mortality without failure;” “three essays on sexual theory;” “elliptical structures;” “embracing the failure of langauge ultimately allowed…” BLAH BLAH BLAH. I’m sorry dear, I just can’t listen to your problems with the same patience I could at the beginning of the semester.
I tried asking him today what was wrong. “Just tell me what I need to fix, what should I change?” He stared at me blankly for about five minutes. Passive aggressive much? Then, somewhere in the silence I heard him mutter angrily, “If you aren’t smart enough, and if you aren’t dedicated enough to me to just figure it out yourself, then you don’t deserve to be with me.” Ouch.
“But I’m trying! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” He stared blankly again. Clearly it wasn’t good enough. I mean, my “readers” (he’s always talking about my readers, it makes me so jealous….urgh!) well, “They understand what I’m really about, they talk to me in ways that acutally fulfill me and make sense, you just vomit all over Microsoft Word and call it love!” Again, ouch.
I used to be a self confident person before I really got to know thesis, and granted, he has shown me a mixture of my strengths and weaknesses, but right now he’s doing nothing but pointing out my flaws. Guess you’re not dedicated enough to stick around the library for me, huh? Guess this really doesn’t mean anything to you, does it BKflamebroiled?
And then there’s those happy thesis-facebook couples. They’re always uploading all these kissy photos of themselves on romantic dates and their status is all “OMG 97 pages of love! I can’t believe it! It’s turned in and thesis and I couldn’t be happier!” It’s not fair to the rest of us who are still suffering. I-will-de-friend-you.
Not to mention, like any other relationship, he’s making me UGLY. I used to care about fashion. Now I wear spandex. And tennis shoes. and I don’t shower. I don’t shower! I just wallow in my own misery and dirtiness. I don’t care what I look like because it’s never enough to please him and I don’t have the time to try to attract anyone better.
Did I mention I started eating fiber pills just to fill the inescapable feeling of emptiness and despair in my stomach!?! Actually, bloated-gassy-blah is a better feeling the feeling of “what is all this really for” that’s constantly gnawing at my soul. I tried complaining to my parents, but they were so sick of trying to console me over this broken relationship; they just didn’t know what to say.
AND he broke up with me. HE broke up with ME!! Did I mention that? I thought it was impossible for inanimate objects to break up with you, but he went and crashed my harddrive, and those ten pages will be gone FOREVER! Why must you run from me thesis, I just want to love you! (or turn you in and get drunk).
He’s even starting to get jealous and passive aggressive about my future. “Thesis, considering graduation is just a few short weeks away, don’t you think I should start taking this job search a little more seriously??” He stared blankly for about 30 seconds (again!) and then he shouted: “You’re going to abandon me and start planning your future away from me at THIS point in the game? I’m due in fewer weeks and you’re thinking about this? Why can’t we just enjoy our time together??”
My therapist is worried, I never see my friends, and my ex-boyfriend “Whiskey” is starting to look really good with his new girlfriend “horde of drunk freshman constantly roaming the socials.” I guess, I realize, it’s time to turn this shit in and get going with life.
To all the juniors out there: Don’t just write a thesis because you think you’re “one of those people.” I actually love my thesis sometimes, and I am really glad I took this challenge on, but do remember that it’s a real commitment, and unless you found a topic you truly love, it’s just not fucking worth it. Nonetheless, I have grown in ways I couldn’t expect in choosing to write a thesis. It’s challenging in ways that one doesn’t expect, but it’s also rewarding in ways one doesn’t expect. Still, I wanna turn this shit in find a job and get drunk.