Marrying my Dog...

It’s the acceptance of affection that keeps our blood flowing; allows us to entertain the miniscule points in a conversation where an eyebrow lifts or an eyelash bats. People will continue to argue our purpose upon this world; whether it is love, laughter, or hope, when it is really only understanding. Daily, we are fighting so hard for a concept which is so simple; maintaining these frozen moments of true intimacy captured in oversized gulps of air. We teach each other to express love in the overwhelming black void of fate, and the unknown; the place of retirement where no one can speak. And yet, we are silent. I love you. I love you not. I am completely wasting your time.

Somehow cowardice begins to overtake courage and redefine opportunity as an occasion that can be recaptured, when it cannot. Human nature has become a vain attempt to establish emotional prowess when the actuality still remains a wounded vulnerability. The heart feeds upon a connection between neurons, all biology and scientific hypotheses that we transform into valid emotions with indescribable consequences. We want love. We want butterflies and elevated heartbeats. You seek the ideal romance in the same manner you search for the ideal pocketbook. The blouse. That which makes you complete.

And yet, the banners and the brand names; and the impossible gains. No, they don’t fill the gaps or eccentricities. We lose faith in the firing of neurons, and become attached for the simple reason that they’re there. You can’t dawdle in a daydream, and you can’t dance around a nightmare. But the person who sees what you want isn’t yet there.