Guys, it’s taken me a long time to talk about this because betrayal is something I take really seriously. When I make an agreement with someone, especially when it’s personal, it may as well be a blood oath.
A few months ago, I was in my bathroom inspecting my eyebrows. Sacred time. That’s when I saw him. We locked eyes in the mirror and though I knew we’d never be in love, that moment changed what we were to each other and ourselves, forever. There was the face of the biggest cockroach in the world, staring from the linen cabinet directly behind me.
I am never great when I meet someone new. I froze and then slowly backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me and resolving to think about this in the morning, when I could stand it.
Over the next few weeks, a grudging respect grew between us. He stayed in or on the cabinet and I made a lot of noise before entering the bathroom. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was honest. We had an understanding.
So you can imagine my heartbreak when I came into my apartment one night and found that my stalemate had turned into an out and out war. My giant cockroach roommate had stormed the beaches and was now standing on the blinds over my bed. My fidelity was for naught.
I picked up my Lavender Scented Raid* and went to town. Of course, because a roach is only that close to your bed in a personal Hell, he writhed and fell into a bunched up Snuggie I’d crammed into my windowsill to block out cold wind in the winter.
Two glasses of rosé, three hysterical phone calls, and thirty minutes later, I pulled out my bed, unbunched the Snuggie and found his still twitching body. I flushed him, crying both from disappointment in our broken gentlemen’s agreement and ickiness, all the while thinking, “This must be how the President feels about Putin.”
Since then, I’ve moved out and I’ve moved on. But when I see a cockroach now, I kill him instantly. I hate that I’m just not ready to trust again.
*So refreshing as you breathe in brain cell-killing poison.