I'm A Savage

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So Sierra told me a story the other morning that I feel legally obligated to share because it’s too funny not to.

The other night we were asleep, and I was spooning her. Normal. Very cute. Very domestic. Two lesbians and three cats somewhere in the house living their best little Canadian life.

At some point in the middle of the night she wakes up and realizes I’m apparently taking up a little too much space. So she gently asks me if I could move over a bit and give her some room.

Now normally, when I’m conscious and functioning as a decent human being, I’m very much a “yeah of course honey, whatever you need” type of partner. I want this woman to live comfortably. If moving six inches to the left will improve her life, then six inches to the left I go.

Apparently not this night.

Apparently I woke up and chose violence.

I don’t remember most of this interaction. According to Sierra there was a whole exchange that happened, but the only part I vaguely remember is the absolute menace that came out of my mouth.

When she asked for room, I apparently looked at her and said:

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Which… first of all, the audacity.

And then, because that apparently wasn’t enough, I followed it up with:

“Well if you didn’t sleep so far across the bed, I wouldn’t have to come so far to cuddle you.”

Which is especially funny because cuddling her is usually her favorite thing.

But wait. It gets worse.

Because according to her, after saying this, I reached out and poked her in the shoulder. Like a tiny little physical punctuation mark to emphasize how much of a problem she apparently was.

Just a little poke.

And then, I assume, immediately went back to sleep like nothing had happened.

Meanwhile Sierra is lying there like, who the hell did I just wake up next to?

The best part is that when she told me this story the next morning, I had absolutely no defense. I barely remember saying any of it. I just had to sit there and accept that at some point during the night I transformed into the sassiest, most passive-aggressive version of myself imaginable.

So yeah.

Apparently when I’m asleep I’m just out here emotionally bullying my girlfriend for wanting a little personal space.

Luckily she didn’t take it personally and instead found it hilarious, which is why I’m allowed to still live here and write about it.

But still.

I would like to formally apologize to Sierra for my nighttime savagery.

And also remind her that if she’s sleeping too far across the bed, that is apparently a her problem.

(Just kidding. Please don’t wake me up tonight for both our own safety.)

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love is patient, love is kind… love is getting roasted at 3am and staying anyway.

talk soon, kas

☕✨