Love...yuk

A Story by Jayyfoster

Love. Yuk. Here I go just writing about love and tokens of affection and other loathsome vomit-inducing vanities. Why must the detestable Cupid garrison in the dark recesses of my mind? Yet here we are. You’ve felt it. I’ve felt it. That undeniable feeling of when that person says hello in that musical tone akin to that Mumford & Sons song that you know about and love and no one else does. It’s strange, when you try to sing it to your friends they often think to themselves and may even reply, “Who sings that song? Beyoncé? Cool, cool yeah that’s right, righ�"KEEP IT THAT WAY.” Maybe you both take the same biology class and, how about that, you sit in adjacent seats? Does your tongue play the mad man? Does your vernacular suddenly sound like your 25-week-old cousin? How about those gawky silences analogous to 6^th grade sex ed? Classic. How about those moments when your best friend agrees to vouch for you on your behalf? Instead the fatherless-rat’s-buttocks ends up with her because you didn’t have the cajones to say hey “I like yo�"ur buttons. The buttons. The buttons on your p-p-p-panty�"I mean pantaloons!” Does it feel like you are sawing her limbs off with a blunt, rusty Swiss army knife? You’re not wrong! You are cutting and it is a blunt, rusty Swiss army knife but you are aiming them at your own gonads. That’s why you feel like a mid-pubescent dinosaur-jellyfish hybrid that lost its glasses. You’re being too hard on yourself. Honestly I don’t have any answers or solutions to these kinds of problems because I’m still solving them in my own life. But I do know one thing. Right now, you are thinking of that one special person and I didn’t even mention their name.

So love is not a fight, we stop in its name, it feels so right and burns like a disco inferno. Why do we keep tripping up over the same stone over and over again and again? What’s love got to do with it? EVERYTHING!!