Love Question-mark Exclamation-point

When you hit me over the head with a notebook called Love, this is the response you'll receive.

In truth I’ve always wondered what it meant to love a man.

I’ve had a few crushes in my time, but never confessed or gone on dates.

Most times, I’d sit by and watch as ‘my guy’ was plucked by another girl…

The first few weeks of watching ‘your guy’ prancing around with another princess is depressing,

but then their love eventually decays into something even worse than your depression,

and call me sadistic, but watching their struggles is something more delightful than

your already forgotten affections for him.

 

I can’t quite comprehend someone ever falling for me.

Whether they fall from the moon, splat onto Earth, and realise their love for me.

Or trip on a speck of dust, land on their hands and knees, and realise they’re in love with me.

“Sandra, I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Ha!

I think, if I were ever to be confessed to, I’d kick the guy, poke him in the eye, and ask if he were alright.

 

What’s with the carefree public displays of affection?

When you’re sitting in a restaurant and two people be marathon kissing in front of you;

I’m thinking, “yo, buddy, you gonna order something or is her tongue all you’re having tonight?”

“Hey, d’ya wanna order some wine with that saliva?”

And when the waitress comes walking around with a plate of bread,

“No, no, this row doesn’t need any bread. The dude on table thirty-two is holding enough buns for all of us.”

I’m not sour; I just don’t appreciate having to ride the train or bus and not being able to look in a particular direction because a couple is snuggling or making-out.

I understand you love her, that’s fine, and you want to show the world, that’s also fine.

But kissing so I can see your tongues tangling, moaning, and groping is not fine.

 

I recall once asking my mum how she and her boyfriend met (worst decision of my life).

He called her on accident, she received the call, and after hearing her voice he proceeded to tell her,

“sorry, wrong number,”

and then they got into a conversation, started flirty, and poof you got yourself a dude.

Maybe I should try dialling random numbers and being like,

“oh, I’m sorry, wrong number. Y’ know, you have a nice voice…”

 

I witness children younger than me getting into relationships, and I laugh.

Because I know they aren’t going to last…and please don’t tell me,

“you never know,”

Because honey, I already know.

Sharing your Strawberry-shoelaces in the park does not equate to love.

Well, not in my book.

 

To my friends who view getting into a relationship as ‘practise’ for the future.

Stope.

Please.

‘Practise’ is going to hurt your other-half, understand?

‘Practise’ no make perfect, you understand?

‘Practise’, how are you going to know when practise it over?

 

As I am, I can’t say what love is.

But, hey, Love, if you’re listening,

I’m patiently waiting.

You can circle the globe a few more times before we finally meet.

Author's Note

What I think and see when it comes to 'love'.