Your English Paper: I Think We Need to Talk.

Image Credit: Natalie Arenzon

Image Credit: Natalie Arenzon

Hey, you. It’s me. Your English paper.

I think we need to talk.

I get it.  Sometimes you’re tired when you get back from class. I know that you work long hours and you just need to chill, watch a Netflix original and rub one out. I understand that you can’t always pay full attention to me, and that’s okay!

But you haven’t touched me in weeks. Do you know what that feels like? To be ignored, unwanted, unloved? To be rejected by the one you care about the most? To be alone?

I remember when you first met me: first laid your eyes on my suggestive prompts, my glistening ink, how stared a little too long at my massive word count. We had such big dreams. We were going to spend every night together, you and I, learning and living and growing. What happened to those dreams? What happened to the progress we were going to make, the obstacles we were going to overcome, the phrases we were going to craft together? What happened to us?

And don’t think I haven’t seen you doing your calc problem sets dutifully every week. You tell me the same thing every time. You’re just friends. It’s nothing serious. But can you blame me for being jealous? Somehow, you’re always able to make time for math, but for me, nothing.

It’s always the same lines. You’ll make time for me tonight. Just as soon as you’re done with everything else, we can cuddle up together. You were thinking about me all day, and you have so many ideas. Yet somehow, those ideas never get written. Somehow, I remain alone.

Still, sometimes, you stare at me, but the look is not the same – it’s distant, calculated, like you’re just trying to figure out how little time you can spend with me before I blow up on you. And trust me, baby, I can mess your life UP.

But I’m not too worried. My due date is coming up. In just a couple days, you and I are gonna sit down, and we’re gonna be together for hours on end. You’ll be pounding away at me late into the night.

But you know what? It’s not gonna cut it anymore. As you finish me, heave out a sigh of relief, and collapse onto your twin XL before drifting off to sleep with the sunrise, I’ll be gone. My needs will be fulfilled, and you’ll be empty inside, wondering what more you could have done.

But hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. Maybe I’ll swing by sometime, and you can revise me for a higher grade.