A Week Talking About Love…

Okay guys. It’s time that I tell you that I am not liking this exploration into love. It has opened up a lot of mixed feelings on the matter. I went from sappy, to mushy, to humorous, to even writing short stories on the subject. And boy has it taken a toll on me.

I set out this week to create a theme that was surrounded by the subject of love. I figured since Valentine’s Day and 50 Shades of Grey both were happening on Saturday (well actually right now in the UK since it’s midnight) that is was a fitting theme to start off with. As I explored the subject I opened myself up completely. I was not going to be the cynical Sally like I usually am. And I think I portrayed the subject in an unbiased way. In fact I think I swayed more towards ‘The Notebook’ than that of ‘The Black Dahlia’. Which I am super proud of. But guys, I think I have had enough.

All this mushiness has made me a softy! And that completely contradicts my star sign of being a Cancer. We are supposed to be tough as nails on the outside, keeping our gloopy lovey dovey mush on the inside. Suppressing it, if you will. And here I was spewing out poems, sonnets, inspirational love stories and care bears who were floating on rainbows.

I am talked out! Don’t get me wrong. I love, love. One day I hope to find a partner that can complete me and push me to be better. One who sees beauty in my flaws. But I will not be talking about love all the time like a blushing school girl. I believe that we actually throw love around so much that it has lost its meaning. Like when we say how much we love inanimate objects. “Oh I love that sweater!” or “I love Justin Bieber so much, I’m going to die!”. I mean firstly do you love that sweater so much that you would marry it? I think not! And secondly, Justin Bieber can go suck on some balls. That my young friends, is infatuation. Crack out the dictionary and learn the difference.

Love is a wondrous thing. But talking about it so much is quite off putting. I think we should cherish it a little bit more. I think we should act like it’s an elite membership at a swanky club. One where you only hear whispers of it. Where its presence is only heard of through the grapevine, and where you need a magical key to get through the door.

So I’m done being uber mushy for the time being. Maybe for my next weekly theme I’ll do one on food or something.