Relationships…like meals.

I was never sure what I thought about love. I was always sure, however, what I was supposed to think about love. Raised by two apocalyptically wrong for each other parents, relationships were hardly defined by compatibility and support for me. In fact, looking back on those innocent high school boyfriends, I really have no idea at all what sort of fruit I was seeking from those still then foreign trees. When I look back at those songs I was writing for guy after guy after guy, I can’t make sense of it. I would scribble passionate lyrics across an oh so cliche napkin. I would pronounce my aching devotion, which yes, the two have always gone hand in hand for me. It seems as though I have always been quite masterful at giving everything there is to give and feeling everything there is to feel instantaneously with a person. It could be my impatience or fear, or both, that has kept me from letting anything marinate.

I love you. (PUKE).

When you’re dating a guy who you really like, you might start to kind of just a little bit fall in love with him eventually (GAYYYY, I KNOWWW). And when you do…the tormenting of your heart begins. Now all of your eye locking moments aren’t just “sweet”. They’re now opportunities to exchange those magical three (GAYYYYYY) words. You catch yourself biting your tongue every time you want to say it. He should have to say it first, right? But nonetheless, that doesn’t change the sudden awkwardness in the room when some lead hunk in a movie the two of you are watching tells his damsel in distress that he is in love with her. (And you’re GAY boyfriend hasn’t noticed yet that this is all a movie and he is supposed to be the hunk; you…the damsel.)