I’m Pretty Sure That James Comey is Going to Ask Me to Marry Him!
Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure that Thursday is going to be the most important day of my life!
I know, I know. You think I’m getting carried away. Again. But hear me out. I’m certain that once you’ve listened to our story, you’ll agree that Thursday will make me the happiest woman on Planet Earth.*
First of all, I admit that this has been a tempestuous relationship. Everyone who knows me remembers how James Comey broke my heart in late October. I was absolutely shattered. He ruined everything, and I mean EVERYTHING. You may recall how I cursed James every day for about three months, and how I fashioned a James Comey voodoo doll from a fairtrade coffee sack and ugly cried while impaling it with the whimsical pins I’d purchased on Etsy. I felt, with justification, that all my misery could be traced back to James Comey. I couldn’t stand the freakishly tall sight of him.
You’re probably wondering, “How could you forgive him after what he did?”
But what you don’t know is that James was going through a very confusing period at that time. He has since explained, during a very emotional conversation, that he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Or, as he puts it, between a “really bad” and a “catastrophic” place. He told me he gets “mildly nauseous” whenever he thinks about what he did. Isn’t that the sweetest?
I know you’re dying for more details but I can’t get into it because it’s ridiculously complicated. I mean, really, exceedingly convoluted, to the point where no one can follow it unless they have abandoned their personal lives to parse what the hell is going on. All you need to know, however, is that there was this twat named Jason who made the whole thing so much worse, and that in general, lots of people are just misogynist fuckheads who are ready to believe the worst about women. Whatever. It’s done. The bottom line is that I forgave James. Have you never forgiven someone who hurt you? Let the couple who hasn’t weathered a rocky storm cast the first stone.
So there we were, in this state of neutrality, when it started to become clear to me that not only had James Comey never meant to hurt me, but that he was actually the person, more than anyone else on Planet Earth** that could bring me everlasting joy and happiness. I know this because he started to tell me his secrets, and those secrets contained all the truth I have been waiting so long to hear.
And now, on Thursday, after the most enormous, exciting, unprecedented buildup in the history of buildups, we will see each other once again. The stage is set. The world is watching. The mic is ready to be dropped. And I am absolutely convinced James Comey will tell me the biggest secret of all. It’s going to be amazing. Epic. Historic.
Why are you shaking your head like that?
You think I’m setting myself up, don’t you? You think I’m deluding myself into believing that Thursday will resolve everything once and for all, when actually, nothing substantial will change because the inertia of the status quo is turning out to be the most persistent thing about 2017.
You don’t even have to say it. I can see it in your eyes.
But can it really be possible? After all this expectation, this tension, this ludicrous set of orange circumstances, it could actually come to nothing. James Comey might break my heart all over again. What if… What if I’m so desperate for this shitshow to end, that I’ve convinced myself that something monumental is about to happen, and actually, it’s just going to be another regular day? What if James Comey isn’t the man I thought he was?
Only time will tell. I guess I’ll see you Thursday, James. Don’t let me down.
*Planet Earth is doomed, ICYMI #ParisAgreement