Each night, my girlfriend wakes me up to tell the exact same joke.

Before i start, i feel like i should let something very clear: I absolutely love Ellen. We've been together for three years now, and i can hand on my heart say that she is the love of my life. We met at a book store, bonding over our shared love of poetry and vintage jazz music. She is smart, she is kind, she is beautiful; and i am, without a doubt, the luckiest man alive to have her in my life. That being said, there is one thing about Ellen that absolutely, positively, drove me completely, utterly insane. Each night, without fail, Ellen would wake me up at exactly 3:04 am. I know that because i always checked the clock. She would crawl across the bed, sit on my chest, and pull open my eyelids. стад темноте, i could only see the vague outline of her face. But whenever a car would pass by outside, the street light would shine through the window, illuminating her features. And that's when i saw it. The smile that was plastered on her face during those seconds; the one that was so wide it threatened to break her jaw into a million different pieces, was the most disturbing thing i have ever seen in my life. "Tell me the joke, Ross." She'd say, her voice barely above a whisper. "What did the moon say to the sun?" The first time it happened, i went berserk. "You’re scaring the FUCK out of me Ellen! What are you talking about?! Is this some kind of joke? Because you’re really not funny! What the fucked is wrong with you?! Are you high or something? Do you realize how creepy you’re being?" I screamed. But she'd just sit there, her smile plastered to her face as she continued to pull at my eyelids. "Tell me the joke, Ross. What did the moon say to the sun?" After a while, i stopped fighting it. After a while, her creepy face ceased to unnerve me. After a while, i memorized the answer she provided. "You’re awesome. And i hope you have a burning passion for life." Then Ellen would lean forward and kiss me. And till this day, i can still remember the way she smelled. She still smelled like the flowers i got her on our first date. Like we were still two young lovers who had no idea about the world. She'd crawl off my chest, snuggle into me, and i'd fall asleep immediately. The next morning, however, she would have no recollection of it. "Did we have sex last night? Sorry if i was too loud" She'd ask, shaking me awake at 6 am. "Well, you definitely did something last night. You just aren't the first girl to try and rip off my face in the middle of the night." I'd joke. "Why would i do that?" She'd ask. "Just some crazy dream i had." I'd say. "You know i hate it when you joke like that, it creeps me out." She'd say. "Sorry." I'd say. Then we'd have breakfast. And everything would be fine. Despite the initial shock, i grew used to the routine. I was able to identify the sound of her movement, the creaking of the bed as she crawled across it. And i'd prepare myself for the horror that was about to follow. I didn't need to look at the clock anymore. It got to the point where i could do it in my sleep. And in a way, it felt comforting. Like something that i could depend on. Something that i could call home. I should have gotten used to it. I should have been happy with how predictable it was. But i wasn't. I was terrified. I was terrified because, no matter how hard i tried, I couldn't get used to the way she looked when the street light illuminated her features during the dark nights when there weren't any cars driving by. I was terrified because i couldn't get used to looking at her smile. I was terrified because i couldn't get used to the way she would whisper in my ear. "Tell me the joke, Ross. What did the moon say to the sun?" That night, it didn't happen. That night, I slept all the way till morning. I woke up groggy and disoriented. I looked at the alarm clock. 6:03. But that wasn't what caught my attention. Laying on top of the alarm clock was a piece of paper. I picked it up, felt the softness of it, and read it. "What did the moon say to the sun?" It read. It was written in Ellen's handwriting. But it was what was scribbled below it that caught my attention. "You’re awesome. And i hope you have a burning passion for life." It was written in my handwriting. Ellen stood by the door, looking at me with tears in her eyes. "You don't have to do it anymore, Ross." She said, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should have let you go a long time ago." "What the FUCK is going on?!" I screamed. "I'm sorry." She said. "I should have let you go a long time ago." She repeated. I leapt out of bed. "What the FUCK is going on?!" I screamed again. This time, more forcibly. "I'm sorry!!" She screamed. "I should have let you go a long time ago!!" She repeated. "I'm going to call the fucking police!!" I screamed again. "It won't do anything!!" She screamed back. "I'm sorry!! I should have let you go a long time ago!!" She repeated again. I pulled out my phone. Held it to my ear. And that was when everything went black. I don't know how long i was out for. But when i woke up, i was back in bed, groggy and disoriented. I looked at the alarm clock. 6:03. I looked beside me. And i saw Ellen. "What the FUCK is going on?!" I screamed. But she just shook her head and walked away. Despite the initial shock, i grew used to the routine. I was able to identify the sound of the door slamming. The creaking of the stairs as she walked down. It got to the point where i could do it in my sleep. And in a way, it felt comforting. It got to the point where i could do it in my sleep. And in a way, it felt comforting. Like something that i could depend on. I should have gotten used to it. I should have been happy with how predictable it was. But i wasn't. I was terrified. I was terrified because, no matter how hard i tried, I couldn't get used to looking at her face when i woke up. Like a part of me had been carved out. I was terrified because i couldn't get used to the way she would leave without saying a word. I was terrified because i couldn't get used to the thought of her never coming back. I was terrified because, despite everything, i still loved her. More than anything. Each morning, without fail, i'd wake up at exactly 9:03 am. I know that because i always checked the clock. I'd rush down the stairs, throw open the front door, and look left and right. And every time, i'd fail to find her. And i'd come back inside, crying. And each time, i'd fail to cry. They say that if you're beheaded, you can still see the world for around 5 seconds before your brain dies. I wonder if my brain died a little each morning. I wonder if i'm dead. I wonder if that's why i can't cry. I wonder if that's why i can't sleep. I wonder if that's why i can't live. But most of all, i wonder where Ellen is. Because it finally happened. I slept through the night. ***The End***

Each night, my girlfriend wakes me up to tell the exact same joke.

Comments (12) 23890 👁️