before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
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# plant girl 🌿
the first time nagi revealed to you that he had a cactus you were over the moon. you didn't think this boy could get any more endearing than he already was.
he holds the cactus up to you so you can see it.
"this is choki," he had said, with a small smile. "he doesn't need much, which is why we get along so well."
since then you and nagi have come a long way. in your relationship and in the amount of plants that you own. they canopy your living area, and bring a lot of light and love into your home.
due to each plant being different and having different needs, they each have their own watering schedule. which is why nagi is crouching by the windowsill with his little black spray bottle in hand.
the windowsill is where choki and the succulents live. you remember when you first got all the small succulents that line your window. it was in the first few months of you moving in with nagi, running errands with him on one of his free days.
"oh! we're almost done, just a few more things and we can go home." you'd said as you crossed another item off your list. when you didn't get a reply you looked up from the paper in your hand to find your boyfriend.
he was distracted by a small display of succulents just across from where you stood with your cart. his fingers carefully poking at each plant's leaves.
"succulents! how cute," you'd said once you made it to his side, "should we get some?"
the rest was history.
you think besides choki, those little succulents are nagi's favorite plants in the house. well besides the orchids that sit near your desk. he'd bought the orchid plant for you after you offhandedly mentioned that orchids were one of your favorite flowers.
he'd brought it home a few days after that and set it relatively close to your workspace so that when you looked away from whatever occupied you, it would be the first thing you would see.
nagi finishes spraying the succulents, moving to stand as he says; "grow well."
he turns to find you and his eyes narrow as he sees you making your way to the orchids, your own little spray bottle in hand. yours is emerald green as opposed to his black one.
you nearly jump out of your skin when a hand unexpectedly grabs your wrist.
"what're you doin'?"
you look up to meet the eyes of your boyfriend, his brows pinched together and a small pout forming on his lips.
"watering venus?" you answer, your head tilted in confusion.
"i'll do it." he insists, pulling you to him by the wrist he holds and practically crushing you against him.
"sei! why can't i water venus?" you ask, looking up at him with your chin resting against his chest.
"cuz it's my job," he replies without taking his eyes off the plant, "your's is to just look at it and think of me."
you stare at him mouth agape, heat flushing your face. you didn't expect a reply like this, it makes you curl your fingers into nagi's shirt and bury your face in his chest lest you melt into a puddle at his feet.
"you're so unfair seishiro," you murmur into his shirt.
nagi just smiles, rubbing your back with his free hand. he loves his plant girl.
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