McBougie Eats Bathroom Candy

McBougie and I had been dating for about four months before I found candy wrappers in the bathroom trashcan.

I was running a shower and undressing while the water warmed when I looked down into the wastecan next to the toilet. Atop used tissue and cardboard toilerpaper rolls was a small pile of gold candy wrappers. I'm not certain what particular type of candy the wrappers belonged to, but I do remember that they were miniature somethings.

I kept the shower running as I pulled a towel around my waist and stormed into the living room. was standing in the kitchen of his three-bedroom condo when I entered half naked and disoriented. I waited for him to look up and then stammered, "Were you eating fuckng candy on the toilet?!"

I'm not really sure what the outcome of this ridiculous confrontation was, but it was whack enough for me and my friends to still reference this incident at least once a week. I can rarely spend any extended time in the bathroom without Joey texting me to ask if I'm eating candy on the toilet.

McBougie was less than a year younger, two grade levels behind, and half a foot taller than me. Everything he did either annoyed me or made me feel like I had to compete with him. Our relationship was a constant struggle that exhausted both of us beyond the point of recovery. And until two weeks ago, our saga that began in the summer of 2008 was still  kicking my ass. I walked away from McBougie a long time ago, but our baggage still sits at the foot of my bed.  Only recently have I begun to live in a world where I don't have to take a second look around the parking lot for his car before entering a restaurant. But I still take one look over my shoulder anyway.

That's the thing about being one half of a pair of star cross'd lovers; the odds will always be stacked against you. Your only hope is to try your best to fully understand that person. Let the little things slide every now and then and don't go looking for a reason to be in control.

And if you ever find a Reese's wrapper or a Doritios bag in the trash can next to the toilet, just let it go.

...Unless you happen to find a hot pocket sleeve in there. If that ever happens, you have my full permission to tell all of your friends and update your Facebook status to say something like "Just found evidence to suggest that Corey is eating hot pockets on the toilet. Please text him and reprimand him for this behavior."