I want someone to sweep me off my feet, the way Romney sweeps all questions about his tax returns under the rug. Fuck it, I am a romantic at heart. I’ve tried to tell myself that I’m not. Today, I am coming forth and admitting my truth: I like romance, I like to be romanced, and I love the fuck out of candles. Someone adore me. Really, truly adore me. Because we all deserve that. We should all have that experience, of being Tears For Fears-style head over heels and have it being reciprocated. That’s the key, you don’t want to be the creep who is in like with someone who has no interest. Yeah, that sucks, but you have to find a way to accept the situation and walk away. The sooner you learn how to do this, the better. I found that the only way to get over someone is to find someone else to get under. I don’t mean that in a sexual way, but if you want to interpret it as that, go ahead, why not.
I’m sick of all this hipster cynicism. I like looking at photos of people who are in love. As long as they’re not ugly, I mean, let’s not get carried away. I like when people do adorable stupid shit like surprise their loved one with a Doctor Who painting or whatever the fuck the kids like these days. I like looking at photos of weddings and I like reading the stories of how when the bride and groom first saw each other, they couldn’t speak, because they were so overwhelmed by their feelings of complete love and joy. I’m really sick of the whole attitude of, “Fuck it, we’re all going to die one day, nothing lasts forever, and everything has an expiration date.” Is that really how you want to live your life? Wouldn’t you rather be happy?
Someone back me up on this. Or argue with me, that’s fine too.