Love.
Yes, that’s right – love.
You see, usually I’m a cold, bitter, sad little person, but today I’m… ah… well, I’m still cold and bitter, but today I breathe easier because of a little thing John Lennon invented called “love.”
Now, I know there are a lot of you who say, “love smove,” but believe me it exists.
Maybe not for all of us, I mean come on we all know ugly people can’t have love (except maybe in Massachusetts).
Kudos MASS!
Anywho, don’t fear ladies, it’s not me who has fallen in love.
No, I’m still very single, and please feel free to e-mail any personal information about yourself to my e-address found at the end of this column (wink).
Today, I found out that my friends Bobby and Betty got engaged to each other.
“Bobby and Betty” – how perfect is that – it was meant to be.
Plus, they asked me to be in their wedding.
I’m honored. Damn honored!
Do I have to rent my own tux?
Whatever. It just got me thinking about things… life things.
(Disclosure: what follows will be that sappiest, most sensitive, tear-jerking garbage you will ever EVER read in this column – not suitable for children, senior citizens, or Canadians.)
I just started thinking about things you go through when you fall in love and get married.
Like the little fights about what type of wedding china to register for, or the panicked drive to the hospital while the little lady is in labor with the first child – no matter how much you know you need to have two hands at ten and two, you can’t help but clinch each other’s hands (interlocking fingers).
The growing old together.
What about the gray hooded sweatsuits on a Sunday afternoon, or the smell of the other side of the bed.
What you used to refer to as “yours” you now use the possessive pronoun “our.”
It’s the small present under the tree with no card to tell “to and from” because it’s just not needed.
It’s the look of a extra-large oxford shirt and little else, or perhaps her underwear on him – whatever blows your dress up.
It’s the small band of skin on the ring finger of your left hand that never needs to see the sun again.
Wow, who knew I was such a hopeless romantic.
So Bobby and Betty, I wish you the best of luck, although I know you’ll never need it.
And thanks for giving a cold, bitter soul a reason to believe.
“All you need is love.”
-John Lennon, brilliant.