pip pip.

here's some advice no one will ever really want.

shit sucks. it's unavoidable, and we can't magic it away like they do in all those fancy fairy tales you've filled your head with. my inner cynic (a fancy way of just saying, me) feels as though it'd be constructive to point out that it's what people do. they walk up, they smile, turn a pretty conversation, they pull your heart from your chest and walk off. the cynic says "typical", it's the typical turn out, the standard position, the regular occurrence.

the romantic in me agrees.
but the romantic in me goes on to say, duh. because the romantic believes in that lovey dovey crap where you'll find someone you can actually make it with, and if you deal with a sour patch kid now and then and let it tear you down, then there'll be nothing left but a hollow shell when you meet the important one.
the romantic says some random blah blah blah crap for a bit.
then it summarizes.
"It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all." as Samuel Butler is always quoted in most any medium today definitely has something to do with my point.
you'll get dragged through the mud.
you'll eat every weed out of the garden.
you'll end and end and end and end again.
you'll feel empty, hopeless, broken, sick.
then you'll meet someone new.

you'll meet someone, and be like "OH!"
nothing will happen with this person.
but it'll be comforting that they exist.

and then you'll meet someone else.
and they'll make you say "OH OH!"
and love will happen.

and the cynic says, love will happen until you're in the mud, eating weeds from a dreary heartbreaking garden scene. and the romantic says, only until it matters.

and the cynic says goodnight, right?
righto.