Media Pendeja

I met him in Austin. It was all very casual at first. I still had the dating apps on my phone just in case. He invited me to his home one January, and I thought it was so neat that he lived on his own. You see, at the time, I was living with three roommates. He was renting, but still, it was his house. When I walked in, I fell in love with it. I was more infatuated with the house than with him. It was a great house; two floors, very spacious, and way cleaner than I expected.

Smack in the middle of the living room, though, was the ugliest couch I had ever seen. It was too small for the space, and besides, it was just unpleasant to look at. I think it was real leather, but who knows for sure? I didn’t really mind it that night; I was focused on him. He was very nervous around me at the time, and I found it endearing. I wasn’t accustomed to that, and it was pretty entertaining. I told him he should kiss me so he wouldn’t feel so anxious. He did! He kissed me on the ugliest couch in the world.

After that night, I didn’t leave him alone. I deleted the apps. We chatted, we watched movies, and there were lots more kisses on that same couch. I spent a lot of time on it, and yet I hated it. The couch smelled old-ish, made too much noise when you reclined it back, and squeaked when you got up. It was ugly, but it wasn’t mine; I couldn’t make him get rid of it. In this new relationship, there were three: me, him, and the ugly couch.

We had been together for a few months, and he decided to leave. He left, I couldn’t stop him, and I didn’t. I watched him put that ugly couch in a storage unit and drive north. I thought he was going to throw it away, if I’m being honest. I would have at least. I also would’ve stayed, but that’s a different topic. He was going to return, but it took him a while. When he decided to come back to me for sure, he arrived in Austin, piled all of his belongings into a moving truck (couch included!), and found a new house to settle in. I went along for the ride.

The new house was cozy, not as spacious, but he was no longer renting. It was going to be our house this time, and that was exciting. The mixture of my things with his made me happy. I added pillows, trinkets, and blankets wherever I could. The ugly couch remained, though, and in this living room, it became the focal point. I voiced my dislike for the couch. Enough time had passed by, things were secure, and I was comfortable being honest. It was fugly, ok! He didn’t see what I saw, but he was open to a new couch. We compromised on letting the one we had die and then getting something more to my liking. I envisioned a sectional with a chaise. Maybe even something fun like a pink or green couch. The possibilities were endless.

The thing was that the couch didn’t die! Time passed, and the couch kept on kicking to my dismay. A lot of good memories were made there, I won’t lie to you. Putting my head on his lap during movies, slow mornings with a cup of coffee in my hand, lying down after a date night, just slightly buzzed, breaking into a fit of laughter after telling the worst jokes. Those are some of my favorites. There were also bad memories. There were fights; a few at first, then a lot, and then none.

It’s over now. I feel relieved, but also a little lonely. I have my own space, and I need to fill it. I’m going to be looking for my new couch. Just for me. There’s no rush; I can take my time, pick one out that feels just right. I know I’m going to treasure this couch. Not sure what it’s going to look like just yet, but I can visualize myself on a Sunday afternoon, spread out on that couch with all my journals surrounding me, a messy bun, and my favorite shows playing non-stop. It’s going to be great.

Still, I’m going to miss the ugliest couch in the world. It was worn in all the right places. It quite literally held me up while I broke down. It gave me years of comfort, and its presence in the house made me feel complete. It wasn’t so bad after all. In a few years, when I look back on this part of my life, I’ll be able to admit that I didn’t just tolerate it, I loved that couch.

-IC