Aside from horrific cramps and maybe a bit of emotional eating, when I was younger being on my period was really no big deal. I still did everything I would do any other time. It in no way impeded my normal life.

Then when I met Cory I noticed that he started to take care of me during these special times. He would get me any of the ridiculous foods I insanely craved. He would rub my back and my legs without trying to cop a feel and wouldn’t say anything if I stayed in the same leggings and sweatshirt for 4 days in a row. He had absolutely no concept of what menstruation was like so he just assumed it was completely miserable and that I was in no way exaggerating the state of my being.

Well, the inevitable happened and I started to really like being doted on. So I milked that shit. I allowed myself to wallow in my emotions and consume mass amounts of cheese and sugar. I’m not ashamed, life was good; it was like a 4-6 day (depending on just how much milking I did) time-out from real life. Things were suspended in a glorious “Brandi is slightly uncomfortable and I have no way to judge just how uncomfortable so I better be super-extra nice and loving to her” fugue state.

A few years in I started to notice an interesting phenomenon. Around the same time I wanted to eat nothing but Velveeta and would cry during Gossip Girl episodes, Cory would get cranky. He would talk about how he was unmotivated to do anything and he just was out of sorts. This led to a weird hybrid of us taking care of each other. I started to joke that he was man-struating. But it’s sort of true. It’s progressed now so that for a few days every month we are just this mass of emotions and day-naps and are generally unappealing to all outsiders.

He fed off of my monthly energy (or lack their of) and we fell down a slippery-slope I never imagined possible and now there’s an undeniable co-menstruation happening. If things keep going as they are I foresee a decade from now we won’t even get out of bed for those days and will just have some sort of robotic system that brings us a never ending stream of chocolate almond milk and Oreos and plays Sarah McLaughlin on repeat. I should probably just get a hysterectomy now and save us the trouble. It would have to be a long while before he started menopausing with me, right?


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