Look at this guy. Isn’t he creepy-ass? This little monkey, it was given to me by my ex. A running joke in my life has been that I dearly want a monkey. So my ex gave this to me along with a big, sappy story that his daughter very sweetly gave him the cherished monkey to give to me, because he couldn’t find one in the store. He said she’d had it and loved it since she was just a toddler. I was touched and I told him to put her on the phone that night, to thank her, but she wasn’t there, he said. Somehow my thank you never happened.
Later, when our relationship was falling apart, I mentioned the monkey and he was mystified. I said, ‘The one your daughter gave me. Remember? It was a big deal. You said she’d had the monkey since she was three years old.” He had no recollection of the monkey. So I showed it to him.
He still claimed that he’d never seen the monkey before in his life.
This may come as a shock, but (whispers:) I do believe he lied about the monkey. It was probably some awful thing his dog dragged home in its mouth, so he pawned it off on his gullible girlfriend and got her all gushy to boot. This was certainly not near as big a deal as some of my more cherished illusions about him that shattered at that time. But it’s kinda funny in a way. I used to feel like such a fool in regards to him, but now I rather feel that the fool in the situation was probably the one making up elaborate stories about dearly beloved monkeys. Perhaps I should be flattered that he put so much energy into constructing a false illusion for my benefit.
But it’s still a creepy monkey.
My creepy monkey. My very own.
I guess they said it right: Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.