Like most of the relationships in my life. Man, I was really sure this time too guys.
So today I crossed the “I love you” threshold with my girlfriend and do you know what she had the nerve to tell me?
"I love you too."
I’m screwed, in the most wonderful way.
A love that is neither possessive nor jealous, but is still a deep, yearning need for that one special person. The kind of love that makes you skip work so you can spend all day in bed holding them because there simply aren’t enough hours in the night.
Good news guys: I’m starting to remember this feeling.
Who will destroy you slower than any other woman. So that by the time she has sucked out your soul you’re seventy or eighty and your life is over anyway.
And H.G. Wells shatters my soul with this gem: “The hardest lesson is that love can be so fair to some and so cruel to others.”
And then Karen (you all remember Karen, right?) is like “Pull yourself together!”
A silly little poem I wrote whole watching Roxanne with Steve Martin. It’s almost entirely inspired by the movie, but there are a few bits that are me.
For those of you who do not know
I’ve spent my life playing Cyrano.
Courting girls I cannot win
so that my friends might have an in.
And when I find a new affection
Another pal turns in my direction.
“Can you talk to her, please, for me?
You’re good with words, you’ll make her see,”
“Sure,” I sigh and write the letter,
Or paint a picture, that works much better.
I hand it over and tell my friend,
“Just sign your name there at the end.”
And so it goes, even til today.
They’re happy, in love, and my mom thinks I’m gay.
I am the world’s greatest lover who’s never gotten a kiss.
When I strike out on my own I always miss.
But when working by proxy I cannot fail,
I’m most romantic through the mail.
For my friends there is no distance I would not go,
But I’m sick and tired of playing Cyrano.