LOVE

What a mess. People have been fighting about it, getting married about it, writing about it, singing about it, dancing about it, giving birth about it, crying about it, and starving for it for thousands of years.

Love is difficult. Despite being a total sap, a hopeless romantic, my evil little cynical streak keeps getting in the way. I scoff at Valentine's day and refuse to buy my husband a gift. He doesn't care. He wants the same thing for Valentine's every year. It's the same thing he wants for his birthday too, and for our anniversary. Being a practical kind of girl, and hating to spend money, I of course keep on giving him the same thing. You'd think he'd get sick of it but he never does.

I picture Cupid as some punkass kid with white wings and horns poking out of his forehead. Oh no wait, that's me. (Cupid has the bow and poisonous arrows. I have a pitchfork. I'm the farmer angel devil. )

I've been in love with the same guy for twenty years.

Understand the jolt I got when I pieced this realization together. We met each other in February of 1987. Yes, I'll tell you all about it. Later. Right now I'm still processing the time. Twenty years.

It wasn't love at first sight, even though I liked the look of him. I can't say that the sparks flew. I just really liked him. I remember in great detail everything that I was wearing that day, what he was wearing, how he was standing, and what my friend was wearing when she introduced us. And I'll tell you all about that too. Later.

This whole Love Month thing isn't just about my big man though. Love has many shapes and forms.




















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