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My roommate is making me mildly insane.

She's nice and all, we don't have arguments or refuse to share, she lets me hang my weird artsy posters all over the walls (though why anyone would have an objection to Dali's Paysage aux papillons is beyond me), she offered to share her orange juice.

But she has a boyfriend. A boyfriend I know only after a five-minute conversation while she was in the bathroom. He seems perfectly fine, too.

'Cept he's always here.

I'm not some prudish chick who thinks they shouldn't want to be together, but he's here all the time. If she's to be in the room for longer than five minutes, he joins her here. I get the feeling that whenever they leave they're moving locations to his room. Every evening, she'll come in and he's with her. They watch TV, do homework, eat, everything together. Like they must share the same oxygen at all times or life is meaningless. They're not sickeningly cutesy, they're just always together. What is the point in this? Get a life of your own, for God's sake.

I overstep my bounds. I'm being rude. But last night I got in after an on-campus (meaning, ends early) party and spent an hour talking to a friend in her room. I came home at midnight 'cause I was tired already and they were here. She was reading and he was asleep and the TV was on. What is the point of this? I accidentally woke him up by hitting my closet door with a drawer (accidentally, I swear, though I don't regret the result) and he went home and we went to sleep.

This morning, I woke up and he was already here, sitting on her bed watching TV with her. Now that's just rude. I pretended to be asleep, sending mental telepathy, go away, go away, go away and five minutes later he got up and left (woo me and my ESP), and I stayed "asleep" for an extra five minutes, then got up and showered.

The other night I accidentally forgot my keys, leaving them on my desk when I went to hang with a friend in her room, but figured it would be fine because my roomie was there (with boylimb... oops, I mean, boyfriend). I came back a while later and of course, I was locked out, so knocked once, and there was no answer.

Then I thought I heard a creaking inside, and embarrassed, I listened a minute more to ascertain that it was a rhythmic squeak, and ran away. I did not need to wait around while my roommate and her other half got busy.

I'm trying to tell myself I'm bothered by this simply because I'm jealous that she has someone to care about her so much, but I don't believe it. I don't like that he's here all the time, and I don't like that it makes me feel like a third wheel. I hate that I always want to get out of there, like I'm intruding, when it's my damn room too and she should respect my right to privacy, maybe ask if it's okay before inviting the boy over. He has a room, too, right? Why can't they go there?

Grr. I'm going to calm down, I promise.

Though now our ceiling fan is making a similar rhythmic squeak, and I'm doubting my earlier hypothesis...

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