It’s been a rough couple of years for us, babe, and I want you to know that I don’t blame you – those other apocalypses are thrilling. Every time you think about them your heart races. You check constantly for status updates. And whenever you see an update, a new photo, a new study saying that apocalypse X might really become a big part of your life, you feel so alive! That feeling of panic as your own mortality becomes more and more palpable is electric!
But your relationships with those other apocalypses can’t last. You know it. You’ve always known it. Because those apocalypses will actually kill you. Not me, babe. I’m the apocalypse that’ll let you survive. No – I’m the apocalypse that’ll let you thrive.
Remember the first time we met? One of your friends kept going on and on about this great show based on a comic book about me. You weren’t looking for a relationship but figured a casual hangout couldn’t hurt. But from the very first moment you saw a teddy bear rotting in the desolate street, you were hooked on me like a knife in a zombie skull.
We spent so much time together! You’d fantasize about how, when I finally rocked your world, you’d take your parents’ boat out on Lake Michigan to be safe. Sure, you never considered that you would probably be on that boat with your parents rather than a group of your most capable (and fuckable) friends, but it was a fantasy!
Scavenging for food would be exciting, primal! And in a world without a single Kardashian, your food issues would fall away like zombie skin caught on a jagged fence. You’d finally have time to work on your standup set, and maybe even experiment with some improv! Yes, and you’d get a ripped apocalypse bod. You’d be trying all kinds of crazy sex positions with one (or two? Why not!) of your super-hot friends because your confidence would be through the roof like a pile of zombies whose rotting weight caused it to collapse! Remember how good I sound? I’m the flesh-eating, flesh-dripping apocalypse dream!
We had so many good years together, but then things got complicated. You started eyeing the wildfire apocalypse. So hot! The flood apocalypse has you feeling wet all over. The insect apocalypse is the apocalypse you’ve been dreaming of your whole life. A future with the nuclear apocalypse is a little cloudy because you were only allowed to watch the first half of The Day After as a kid (not to be confused with The Day After Tomorrow, which seemed ridiculous in 2004 but now feels quaint). And on top of all that, some creep shows up with a bat wrapped in barbed wire that he calls Pence?
This is to say I don’t blame you for your wandering eye. Who could remain loyal in the face of such pressing, sexy terror? But when you get tired of reading up on “biological annihilation” and checking to see if the Doomsday Clock has moved closer to midnight, I’ll be here. I’ll be here with a can opener, a back-up can opener, and a stack of contact lenses in your prescription! I’ll even bring some lube and condoms for the boat, which is really too small for a group sex scenario, but if anyone can make it work, it’s you, babe.
I believe in you, and I’ll be here waiting, because my love is undying so long as my brain is intact.
