“IM YOURS” Yes, candy heart, I suppose you are. Lucky you.
“YES” What are you replying to? Or is this open-ended?
“KISS ME” Well, you’ll pass between my lips in the course of being devoured, so close enough.
Ah, it’s Valentine’s Day again. How nice. Last year, by which I mean like four posts ago since I’ve been neglecting this thing, I finally said screw it and tore love itself apart. And it deserved it, that bastard. Masquerading so long as being pure and good and something that will trump hate, someone had to say it.
I believe I’ll take a different tack today, however.
When in love, there’s this urge to place object of said love on a pedestal, to see everything this person says or does as brilliant or amazing. Something that you just sort of come to expect and work to see through it. It makes no sense. This person isn’t brilliant. They’re totally full of shit and they know it and really you know it.
And then you know you know it. Then what?
You find you still love that pile of shit anyway, that’s what. Whether it’s in the form of wanting to kiss them or being deliriously happy when around them or wanting to fight over money and dinner plates for life, you still feel it nonetheless despite them being very clearly full of shit.
Not that this is really a beautiful thing. I mean, this is also how abusive relationships continue. But let’s say there’s no abuse here. It’s just seeing human imperfections for what they are. This pile of shit that has won your affections for some reason is, after all, human. Just like you. Such an important common ground!
So you two piles of shit, enjoy your evening!
I’ll sit here with my candy hearts.
“U R SWEET” I think you’re the sweet one, being made of sugar. I’m made of other stuff.
“MARRY ME” Eh, why not? Could be the start of a long relationship- Or not, I just ate you. I must be part spider.
“TRUE LOVE” Ah, but we just met. You have yet to see through my nonsense. Give it time- Or not, I just ate you.