ok, well, you can break up with me if that's what you want but i need you to pay me back your half of our trip to mexico

you said you enjoyed every single minute of it
our romantic escapade to los cabos
the food, the shopping raid with my credit card
the expensive hotel i booked for us

and now it's been a week or so we have returned
back to our routines and you
immersed in your halted projects again
whining over quitting you day job

listen, i can't be more supportive than this
taking care of the house
paying your ever growing cell phone bill
and your terrier's vpi

so when you came up to me last night
saying you feel strange with me lately
i say, well, it's good to know because
it's been some time now you've refused all intimacy

at first it was your business partner leaving you
high and dry that was affecting you
and now you just say you don't know
mexico was nice, but of course there was no sex

and you won't resist three questions in a row
until you open up, honest for the first time in who
knows how long and say you want to break up, tears
fake as the papier-mache fruit you bought from that young artesano

do what you will, i really don't care, but i need
you to pay me back your half of our trip to mexico
and that had you snap, and you shouted at me
and had the nerve to call me jerk and a loser

when you are living under my roof, let me remind you
feasting on specialties and sushi from my fridge
pushing my friends into investing in your demented projects
wearing my dead mother's jewelry to benefit dinners

of course i don't need the money but i can't
play the fool here, i need to have some pride
i'm not treating you like a prostitute
just asking you to pay me back for that trip

because that was a week of hope i had for us two
that was yet another attempt to impress you
dance around you, do whatever it takes to make you happy
and still you didn't give a damn


stewart pellegrino (Hoboken, NJ, 1972)