The Emotional Support Water Bottle: A Tale of Passion, Betrayal, and Redemption

 

Like all Doomed Love Stories, it started with Delusion

Every toxic love story starts with a lie. Mine? I met AquaShawn just last week, and I truly believed—this time, it would be different..

I had been hurt before. Abandoned half-full bottles, forgotten hydration promises, the occasional late-night fling with a disposable cup—but AquaShawn? He was special.

He was tall, sleek, expensive, and promised me things I had long given up on. Glowing skin. Increased energy. A body that wasn’t operating solely on caffeine and stubbornness.

"It’s you and me, Shawn," I whispered in the car on the way home. "We’re gonna drink two liters a day. We’re gonna hydrate like responsible adults. We’re gonna be unstoppable."

I meant it!

For the first 48 hours, our relationship was blissful.

I carried AquaShawn everywhere—the kitchen, the living room, the car. I lovingly refilled him first thing in the morning, like a devoted partner making coffee for their significant other.

I ignored my deep-rooted distrust of water. (Fish have sex in it! I know this! You know this! We all know this! But I was willing to overlook it for the sake of AquaShawn.)

I even started judging other people’s hydration habits.

"Oh, you have a headache? Have you been drinking enough water?" I asked, two days into my hydration journey, as if I was suddenly a wellness influencer.

But then… A slow, silent betrayal crept in.

The Ghosting

Somewhere around Day 3, the effort started to fade.

I wasn’t even sure how it happened. One day, I was a hydration queen, the next, AquaShawn was sitting untouched on my nightstand, looking at me like an ex who just KNOWS I’m about to mess this up.

It wasn’t intentional neglect. I was just… busy. Distracted.

Also, coffee exists, and I love it. Unlike Shawn, coffee has never disappointed me.

"It’s not you, Shawn," I muttered, sipping my latte. "It’s just… I don’t feel thirsty."

Shawn said nothing.

But I felt his judgment.

The Passive-Aggressive Tension

AquaShawn isn’t like the other bottles I’ve owned and discarded.

He fights back.

With his motivational time stamps plastered across his body, he started getting real smug with me.

"8 AM: Rise & Hydrate!"
"10 AM: Keep Going!"
"12 PM: Halfway there!"

Excuse me, Shawn??

Who do you think you are?

You don’t know my life.

By 2 PM, I’d had nothing but coffee, and AquaShawn—my supposed emotional support bottle—had the audacity to sit there, taunting me with a completely full tank of unappreciated hydration.

By 4 PM, he was screaming in bold letters:

"DON’T STOP NOW!"

Oh, don’t stop now?? Shawn, I HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED!

The Toxic Power Struggle

By the end of the week, our relationship had turned hostile.

I started actively avoiding him.

I’d walk past my desk, see him sitting there—full, neglected, emotionally wounded—and I’d just pretend I didn’t see him.

Sometimes, his lid would creak open slightly, as if he were sighing in disappointment.

His cold, unflinching glare followed me across the room.

"I’ll drink later," I told myself.

"I’ll make up for it tomorrow," I lied.

Meanwhile, I continued living on coffee like some kind of feral gremlin, my body 90% caffeine and bad decisions.

The comforting aroma of coffee wrapped around me like a warm embrace, whispering sweet nothings of energy and ambition.

Then came the dehydration symptoms.

• The headache.
• The fatigue.
• The moment when I looked in the mirror and realized my skin was starting to resemble a crumpled receipt.

I was dry. My lips? Cracking. My skin? Dull. My soul? Withering. Even my eyeballs felt thirsty.

And then, at my lowest moment, I saw him.

AquaShawn.

Waiting.

Patient.

Loyal.

Covered in a thin layer of dust but still there, like a love song from my past.

I reached for him dramatically, like a lover returning to the one they had wronged.

I chugged half his contents in a desperate attempt to undo my sins.

Did I feel instantly better?

No.

Did I almost throw up from drinking too much water at once?

Yes.

But in that moment, I knew: I can’t keep living like this.

Redemption (Kind of)

Shawn and I are still figuring things out.

Some days, I do right by him. I drink the full two liters, and we thrive together.

I glow. I am reborn. I am fully functioning.

Other days?

I cheat on him with coffee and tell myself I’ll try again tomorrow.

We’re working through it.

I am learning that small habits matter. That my body actually needs water (even if fish have sex in it). That maybe—just maybe—AquaShawn isn’t the enemy.

We’re not perfect.

But for the first time, in a long time… We’re trying.

Final Thoughts: If You, Too, Are a Hydration Menace…

If you’re ghosting your water bottle, take this as your sign to make amends.

• Your skin? Wants better for you.
• Your brain? Struggling without water.
• Your kidneys? BEGGING YOU!

So, go. Find your AquaShawn.

Chug that dusty, forgotten water bottle.

And hydrate, you beautiful dehydrated disaster.

Even if it’s questionable fish bathwater, your body deserves better.

👉 Tell me about your hydration struggles. Do you have a toxic relationship with your water bottle too? Let’s heal together.

Share this post with a fellow dehydrated gremlin who needs to read this.