In which we’re almost certainly not in love
4th February 2009“… and she said you were in love.”
“The fuck?”
“She said you were in love. Who are you in love with?”
“She’s full of shit, obviously.”
“So you’re not in love?”
“Look at me? Am I glowing? Do I have a shit-eating grin on my face? Is everything rosy kittens and strawberry ice cream and hallucinatory orgasms? Who am I in love with? That guy that slept huddled up next to me for an hour on the train - even though there were plenty of empty seats to move to - him? Am I in love with him? Or maybe I’m in love with the sweet one in my office who constantly smiles at me and nothing else? How about that rude, blonde snot-nosed airhead I so violently want to hatefuck? Maybe I’m love with her? No I know. MAYBE, I’m in love with that guy from ‘amateur cute couple’ I rubbed one out to the other day. The one who kept gushing over how beautiful his saggy-titted, chunky, short-haired, doe-eyed girlfriend was. Yes, maybe he’s the fabled object of my affections. Clearly he’s been the object of my pathetic masturbatory fantasies so why the fuck not?”
“I’m just telling you what she said.”
“I’m just telling you she can fuck off.”
4th February 2009 at 5:58 am
But aren’t you glad she asked? That little speech needed to taste air. Now hug it out (and smell her hair)
4th February 2009 at 6:31 pm
of course you aren’t in love, how absurd as if anyone anywhere could ever be in love, the notion is preposterous. right, right?
4th February 2009 at 6:48 pm
Bloody hell. I wish I overheard those sorts of commuters on my journey into work. Were your ears flapping?
4th February 2009 at 10:43 pm
Jack: Um. You do know a lot of this stuff is - ahem - make-believe, right?
Asia: Hello and welcome, Asia. You seem familiar, do I know you from somewhere? In any case, I do think some people are capable of ‘falling’ or ‘being’ in ‘love’. But how can you tell, with all our neuroses and delusions?
AUW: It’s a looong fucking journey, darling.
5th February 2009 at 1:52 pm
Ani, as far as I am aware we do not know each other, but I have been a fan of your writing for some time. too shy I suppose to post until now. The instant I began reading the first post I ever read of yours, those long months ago, I felt like I was reading my own mind. I was creeped out, but I love being creeped out.
5th February 2009 at 4:52 pm
Very good rant. I know it’s your style but I would have preferred some names thrown in there, like ‘the sweet one’ who I’d probably have called ‘Keith’. Names can add in a whole other layer of meaning. I used to use ‘Nigel’ as one of those names until I got a boss called Nigel and he really wasn’t a ‘Nigel’ at all. Kind of ruined the word for me.
5th February 2009 at 7:37 pm
No thank you, Mr Murdoch. We’ve only just met in these comments, and I am not that kind of sweet one.
5th February 2009 at 9:40 pm
A shit-eating grin? That, is brilliant. I’m still laughing.
5th February 2009 at 11:40 pm
Asia: Woah, you’re creeping me out right now! Not only were you creeped out, but then I creeped you out more and then you told me you were creeped out and creeped ME out and here we are. It’s a good deal we both dig this sort of thing. ;)
[I’m glad you got up the courage to comment, too. You’ll see, everyone’s lovely. Watch out for the boys, though. They’re a right handful.]
Jim: Yeah, I don’t usually like names anyway, but particularly in this case, I think names would’ve lent the ‘prospects’ more familiarity than they needed since the ‘ranter’ is making the point that there’s no one they could be in love with and most definitely not these fleeting connections which are mostly in the mind anyway, you know?
Keith: Ha!
Marc: Can’t take credit for that one, I’m afraid. It’s a fairly well known phrase where I’m from.