I guess I am lucky. I declared at the beginning of the summer that this would be my summer of love. What a joke. I had been played twice not even two weeks after making that ridiculous comment, kicking myself out of the summer love game.
Now we are midway through the summer, and I am starting to get those adorable texts about love confusion and failing relationships. It's all over Twitter. It's in the subtexts of those 2 paragraph long Facebook posts. I don't know about you, but I am already stocking up on canned goods to begin celebrating my cold winter of lovelessness.
Lord, what fools these mortals be. I'm 28 and I have been looking for love since Kelly couldn't go to the prom because her dad lost his job and she had to return her dress and Zack kissed her. For those of you who are not even old enough to remember when Missy Elliot was fat, let's just say the Kelly-Zak kiss was a while ago.
Yet next summer, this post will be a distant memory and I will be putting a clip-on flower in my 'fro to symbolize my being available...still.
I'm just saving my energy. The end of the summer is always a busy time for me. I can usually be found in my bedroom, taking call after call from my love distressed friends, talking them down from the ledge.
I guess we all know what the real fear is: that every year more and more of my friends will be married and by the end of the summer three years from now I will just be talking myself down from the ledge because everyone else will be on their honeymoon.
HAPPY THOUGHTS!
