> The Diary of a Whipped Boyfriend

Since when does my girlfriend think it’s okay for her to squeeze her weighty little body into my twin-size bed?

There I am, tucked into my warm but tiny bed which is lofted almost five feet in the air, and my girl comes climbing up the side ladder.

When I wake up from my disrupted slumber, I realize my girlfriend is no longer lying beside me. I shrug it off; maybe she had to go to class? When I step into the bathroom and realize that she is in my shower, I can’t help but mutter “What the hell?”

“What’s that, sweetie?” she asks me. I see that my toothpaste has been uncapped and that my toothbrush is still wet from moments before, when someone else used it.