My mother always told me that men are replaceable. She would say, “Men are like tissues – you use them till’ you’re done and then start with another.” Then she would try to be cheeky and grab a box of tissues to wipe my tears. But in doing so, was I wiping my tears with men? Were men suddenly soft, white, and filled with lotion? Did I even care? The whole thing was cryptic and nonsensical. But I learned quite quickly to never question Momma Stone.
And so, I took her words with me through life. High schools boys turned into college boys and before I knew it, there were so many men that I almost wished I could compress them all into a tissue box. If only I could be so lucky! But when it would end, as most relationships do, I felt sadness and an immense amount of remorse. All the advice in world from Momma Stone couldn’t help my heartache. If she only knew that I could care less about the men in question, and more about the beds they slept in.
The truth is, most men are replaceable. There are some, however, that are truly remarkable, and these, I believe, come into your life for some reason or another. But to those men who are expendable, I want you to know that my tears were not over you. Rather, they were over your bed. Now, I don’t know what you did to make it so incredibly comfortable or to feel so similar to heaven’s clouds. But, the fact that I can no longer sleep in your bed is upsetting, to say the least.
There was that one guy who I regretfully slept with, but woke up to find myself in a king-size, Tempur-Pedic dream. And there was that other boy who knew I loved the color red, and specifically covered his mattress in red satin sheets. Of course, I can never forget that man who allowed me to sleep in his bliss of a bed as he went off to work at the crack of dawn. To he who I shall not mention, I owe you some of the best sleeps of my life.
You see, men are replaceable. Their beds, on the other hand, are entities that I will miss forever and never forget.