Falling in love is annoying. Amazing, exciting, adrenaline inciting, but also annoying.
It happens so fast you barely have time to stop yourself before you’re compulsively waiting for him to text and stalking all his Facebook photos. Well, not all of them. Just those really good ones of him with the puppy.
And then you’re doing cute things and he’s doing cute things and before you know it you’re in love. There it is. Every love song is about him, every outfit is for him, and every word he says is the greatest poetry there ever was, like:
“Hey can you move, you’re blocking the tv.”
And then there’s falling out of love. It doesn’t happen quite as quickly, it just kind of dwindles. The passion fades, you take each other more for granted, start to view each other less as companions and more as employees hired to ensure one another’s happiness and esteem. Tempers get lost more easily, flaws become more emphasized, and love turns more and more into something you say and not do or really think about.
And then one day you’re arguing about something insignificant and stupid. You’re running late and he left the toast in for too long. Suddenly it comes out:
“I think we should see other people.”
And you just kind of sit there for a while, not sure what to do with one another or how drastically your life is about to change. You talk it out.
“I think we should stay friends.”
But it probably won’t happen.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
And the fact that I don’t like you.
“I’d like us to leave on good terms.”
So you don’t hack into my e-mail account.
“But I think it’s best we don’t speak for a bit.”
Until you forget that you lent me your toaster.
I did love you.
But I love toast more.