Ode to Young Love : Prospective from a 20 year old young woman

3 months after meeting Russell.

Russell. Sigh. I loooove him.

I love the way he masticates his food

And wraps his soft hands around his fork.

I love the way his blue eyes gaze upon me,

And how he’s always in a fantastic mood.

It’s so cute how he sips his tea.

A hot cup to enjoy as the light fades to dark.

At night I lay besides him,

And listen to his breath.

In and out, up and down, rises his chest.

So sexy as I swell with adoration

My love for him crests.

9 months after meeting Russell.

Russell. I looooothe him.

His jaw flaps open as he smacks his food.

And his pale wussy hands clutch his knife.

Did not his parents tell him this was rude?

Morning, night, and day, he plods around

Dragging his feet along the ground,

consumed with being sullen.

He stares at me with those grotesque eyes,

Now orbs of aqua repulsion.

The way he slurps his tea makes me want to cry

Plus, he never leaves the tea bag in long enough to steep

He farts and breathes like an old pug while he sleeps.

And rolls around to steal the covers.

Until it becomes a crisis.

My irritation with him rises.

Ten months after meeting Russell.

It is over. Our love is done,

Withered up like a leaf on a tree at the beginning of winter, waiting to blow away in the frigid air.

No more will grow back as the roots of the tree have rotted, eaten by maggots and worms.

It is over. Our love is done.

Twelve months after meeting Russel

Joshua. Sigh. I looooooove him…