BROOKLYN, NY – Tyler and I need something to spice up our languishing relationship and give us something to care about together. Unfortunately, I’m allergic to cats and Tyler’s family was viciously attacked by a pack of golden retrievers when he was ten, so dogs are out of the question. The only thing that can save us is this season’s Christmas tree.
As we have been living together only for the last year, this will be our first Christmas tree that we buy together and it really has to count. It must be a beautiful Douglas fir that we get in a vacant parking lot of what used to be a White Castle in Brooklyn. The tree will be from upstate New York or maybe New Jersey. Honestly, does it really matter? It just needs to be as beautiful and perfect as he once thought my breasts were. It needs to have staying power and remind us that we used to not groan when receiving a phone call from the other.
I don’t want to mess around with any ironic, sad-looking Peanuts tree either. That is an omen of the doom that might befall us if we can’t make this work at least until Jamie’s New Year’s Eve party. It has to be a really green, luscious tree that will distract Tyler from the barista he just looooooves talking to every morning before work. Talk to me, Tyler! Talk to me around our beautifully decorated Christmas tree that we found together!
When we have chosen our sweet Christmas miracle, we will drag it home. By “we” I mean that Tyler should use this opportunity to display his true strength to me and remind me that I used to find him powerful and manly and that I did not call him “as pathetic as Ted Cruz” yesterday afternoon. Then, we will decorate it! Some of our ornaments will remind us of Christmases we spent together in the past when we were happier, younger, and hadn’t yet dared to poop with the bathroom door open.
We will nurture the tree for the next few weeks until Christmas and all of its joy is over. I swear to God if this tree dies on us then I have to call it quits. I have to. Either this tree lives or he proposes to me or I am DONE. This has to work or I am going back home to Mokena, IL where the waiter at Denny’s still has a crush on me. STILL. I mean it, Tyler. I WILL DO THIS. THIS TREE HAS TO THRIVE OR WE ARE DONE. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS.
Stephanie Weber could do just fine on her own, Tyler.
image by Kevin Stanchfield