i just want you to know that i have serious impostor syndrome issues with this relationship. i’m waiting for the moment when you realize i’m a sham. you wake up one morning and see me there snoring loudly with my dumpy body and my stupid face and you’re just like, “damn, holy shit, this guy is a turd,” and you get up and leave. i’m waiting for that. because if there’s one thing that modern day feminism has slowly taught me, it’s that men are expendable. they are! they really are. this is classically the case with males of the species, with a few exceptions. peacocks. i’m thinking of peacocks. but otherwise, men, eaten, die, go off to battle, whatever … we’re all drones. it’s why we all dress the same and don’t care about fashion. we’re drones! we are here to procreate and then die. my point being that when you’re a woman in a field of drones, who do you pick? a drone? or do you find a nice man who rises above that? you’ll probably say the latter, right? but what if, all along, i was pretending to be something special, when in reality i’ve been a drone all along? that’s what i’m worried about. i’m worried that i hyped myself into something but in reality i’m just a dumb drone.