Fall Confession

Recently I looked at the pictures of my ex-boyfriend and realized one thing: we were both getting fat and incredibly happy without each other.

Realization like that served like a heavy industrial hammer that shattered the fragile mirror reflecting our heavenly love or animalistic attraction that threatened once our well-being.

Apparently once it was gone , we both regained peace , smiles and appetites…We are like healthy moderately obese toddlers learning to walk straight after giving up on picking up a toy from the ground that was too heavy to carry.

Upon the approach of brutal dark Cleveland winter, I find myself laughing upon every memory about him, especially every documented thought in the form of the story, poetry or any other kind of verbal abuse.
Our relationship was like a famous dramatic painting of Romeo and Juliet that once maybe existed but was drawn by wrong Leonardo – Di Caprio instead of Da Vinci – so cheap, so caricature, so commercial. Randomly chosen drunken artist in Vegas would have done a better job for $5, I bet you.
I guess love really appears in the form of the never-ending colds, illnesses, car accidents and does conquer them all.
I manipulated the concept of love,I almost raped it, I hallucinated some roses among garbage, and I paid the full fine for my imagination that acted up like a genie from a Pepsi bottle in public.

We were both just two stupid kids hungry for love and drama. Both tasted like poison. Now we eat pizza instead.

And while the rest of the world is going crazy this fall with vampire sequels and ponders upon what the hell Edward Cullen meant by saying: “This is the last time you'll ever see me.”, I say :” Bella, don’t think too much into his words. Go have some burger or sex, or both, preferably medium rare.”