Nothing mentioned, nothing gained

Laura (What’s in a name?)

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Hey! I’m Laura, and so is my girlfriend.

And my ex-girlfriend who’s Laura’s ex-ex girlfriend’s called Laura, and my ex-ex girlfriend who’s Laura’s ex-girlfriend’s called Laura. And Laura’s ex-ex-girlfriend who I also went out with is called Laura, and my ex-ex-ex girlfriend is called Clare. But Clare’s sister, ex-girlfriend, current girlfriend and in all likelihood future girlfriend all of whom I have am or in all likelihood will go out with are all called Laura. It’s a good job I believe in monotony – sorry, monogamy – as much as I do, cos otherwise there’d just be far too many Laura’s in the same place at the same time. It’s confusing enough as it is!

Oh, and our cat’s called Laura too.

The Laura Ashley shops opened up in Ireland in the late 1980’s. I think that must be why there are so many Laura’s around.

It does get kinda confusing when someone says “Laura” and we both say “What?” And then if it’s a bad day and you’re pissed off with yourself and you say to yourself, “Come on Laura, cop the fuck on you stupid bitch” and then she overhears and you have a fight because she thinks you were talking to her. But you explain, and it’s all fine, and you kiss and make up. Except later that day your feeling that post-fight and make-up love so you turn around say “I love you Laura, you’re the best ever” and she still thinks you’re talking to yourself when this time you really are talking to her. And then she laughs at you for telling you you love yourself, and you have a fight with her for laughing at you when you told her you loved her, and she has a fight with you for being an egotistical bitch who always tells herself how wonderful she is, and it all gets very messy because you’re both Laura and you’re both shouting at Laura.

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And then there’s the sex. I mean, when you both look not completely but sorta similar cos you’re both women, and when you’re Laura, and she’s Laura, you can’t help but wonder – am I, on some kind of deep, Freudian, mega-fucked up level, having sex with myself? It’s her body but whose brain am I fucking here?? Cos if psychologically I’m just masturbating cos I, Laura, am fucking Laura, but physically the other Laura is definitely there so I still have to worry about pleasing her – then that sucks! Lose-lose situation or what?

And of course, we’re both women, so we’re both ultra-competitive so you’re having sex and your looking at her abs and going, that bitch is doing so much better than me at the gym. And then you get insecure and that really makes you want to give Laura a better timer then she’s giving you so you can win the sexual competition, but at the same time you want Laura to give you a better time because you’re lazy and selfish, and she’s Laura and you’re Laura and she’s Laura and you’re both neurotic overthinkers and you think your brain will explode. Or is it hers?

And then you remember that the cat’s name is Laura too. And then your brain goes somewhere you really wish it wouldn’t.

So I decided today I’m going to break up with Laura. I just can’t take the confusion any more.

I don’t plan to be on the shelf long though. I have a date tomorrow, and if we get together it’ll be so much simpler for everybody.

My date’s name is Lara.

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This entry was posted on October 1, 2013 by in Fiction, Short Story, Uncategorized, Women, Writing and tagged , , , , .
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