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By @Madison
Another change that has come with growing up
Is my view on love
Particularly of the romantic variety.
Though the world endlessly attempts to prove its existance to me
I’ve come to the conclusion that, if it is indeed real
It’s not for me.
Not that I mind.
I just might like it that way.
It’s a good way to sell Valentine’s Day cards, sure
And, sometimes
It seems to go right
Like with Izzy and her boyfriend, Alex
Who have been wading neck deep in love’s all-consuming waters since my freshman year.
The heart eyes they constantly make at each other tells me that Alex will pop the question any day now.
However, other cases have me convinced that it’s just too big of a risk.
My studies show that it has been known to go terribly awry
Baiting trouble and heartbreak
Like a worm on a hook.
Take my birth parents, for instance.
Though I had never seen my father in the flesh
The few words my mother had spoken about him conjured the image of a handsome prince in my young mind
With slicked-back dark hair
And blue eyes like mine.
My mother obviously loved him enough to make a baby with him
And he left her in the dust
Leaving she and said baby to walk on uncertain ground.
Not good.
The rest were stories of friends’ parents and romance novels
With quite an array of possible endings.
It was the love stories that ended sadly that stuck with me the most
Cautionary tales to remind me never to dare open the door for hurt.
I don’t think I’m doing that with Todd.
Not as far as my own feelings go, at least.
Todd is less than a fixer-upper.
He’s a wannabe punk
With staticky black hair and spotty stubble
Decorated with a liberal sprinkling of pimples.
He may be smitten with me
But I’m less than taken with him
Despite his pretty eyes and hot kisses.
We couldn’t fall head-over-heels for each other
So I’m a free agent.
Plus, you don’t need romance
To make the artificial kind of love
In the backseat of somebody’s black sedan.
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