X is for Ex. Or cross. As in making someone cross, or crossing someone. Either way, I have some questions for you.
Have you ever been in a relationship with a writer?
Have you ever been friends with a writer?
Have you ever worked with a writer?
Have you ever been at a party with a writer?
Have you ever walked down a street at the same time as a writer?
If you answered yes to any of these questions then the chances are you are in a book somewhere, albeit nicely disguised. As in, you’ll have different coloured hair and a slight name change, you may even have a smaller/bigger nose/ bottom (delete as applicable), but you’ll be in there somewhere.
You can relax though, I’m sure they wrote about you in a good way. I’m sure that once you work out which one you are, you’ll be proud to show your grandchildren and work colleagues. Unless of course you upset them in some way, in which case you’re doomed.
Writers are often quite introverted, they’re not really your typical confrontational shouty kind of person. You might think that when you dumped them/said something slightly mean/annoyed them a bit, that their quiet unassuming manner would result in a bit of moodiness, some sighing and a few passive-aggressive ‘It’s FINE…’ comments.
Think again. They are quiet because they’re wondering whether to make you the murderer or the victim. They’re imagining you in a sex scene where you can’t get it up. You are that mean girl in the story, the middle aged man with an arrogance problem. This is what they do. They immortalise you forever in the worst way possible. It’s cheaper than therapy, more socially acceptable than punching you in the face and it feels great.
But please don’t let this worry you, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just remember this. You are never more than five nasty comments away from ending up as ‘the fat naked man/woman who died in the bath, holding a vacuum attachment/cucumber’. You’re very welcome.