In this day and age when people are divorcing each other left and right, husbands leaving their wives for their slutty secretaries and/or barely-over-the-age-of-consent skanks who probably write in their resume that one of their hobbies is giving “like, you know, the best blowjob ever,” it’s hard to keep believing that couples will really live happily ever after. Well, maybe they will, but who’s to say that it’ll be together and not with someone else?
Alright, I’m probably looking at this from jaded point of view LOL. But you have to admit, when the seemingly in love husbands cheat on their adorable wives to taste the Angelina Jolies of the world, it’s hard to keep on believing that love will truly prevail in the end. Is it really THAT hard to make it work?
I don’t know... Perhaps it’s wrong to have such little faith—but I can’t help it. Particularly when I always encounter fuckwits that are completely in denial and will insist that when you finally get someone’s love, the preliminaries don’t matter anymore. I can’t help but think: what a blind fool! Sure, you could delude yourself till your partner leaves/cheats on you, but deep down, except if you’re Barbie**, we all know love is a non-stop race. Race against time, perky new tits (real or fake), gravity, cellulite that’s always there threatening to take over us. You have to have continuous grit, stamina, courage to keep going; probably the reason why, for many, it’s inevitable to slip and make huge mistakes.
You can’t blame these poor souls though, because it’s true: love is a big fucking risk. You give everything just for a possible glimpse of that elusive heaven everyone (yes, even the cynical ones) wants to live. But the thing is, more often than not, before you even reach the gates of paradise, you end up losing your grip from love’s golden wings. And then where will you be? Lying on the bloody ground, having broken the heels of your brand new shoes. *sniff*
However, despite it all, I have to admit—call it grasping at straws, if you will—that these delusional fucks have a point. I mean, it’s either believe or give up (we really don’t have a choice, do we? LOL). Besides, isn’t that’s why love is supposed to be “grand”? That even when your tits are hanging way past your knees (somewhere around your shins), your face has started resembling a pitted prune, you’re fat, senile, losing your teeth and can’t perform any acrobatic sex positions anymore, your love is supposed to still be there, loving you... Right?
**Surely behind Barbie’s bright smile, there is a derisive snort towards all women. Yeah, she’s plastic and owned by Mattel, but still, she does have it all—including a dream house with a pool and Jacuzzi! Lucky bitch! *hmph*