The love of windworm memories

Maybe we should stop talking about love altogether.

I saw a bag of shitty tasting valentine candies today and it said “love is timeless, and so is your sweetheart.” That’s probably because its chalk and preservatives. One time my friend scott told me that the term sweetpea actually came from diabetics or something that couldn’t digest sugar and so their urine was full of sugar.

I’m reluctant to find out where sweetheart came from. I’m not really sure why I feel this way. I’m not burned by love, just by expectations. What people expect from me, from themselves, us. I can’t compete and its ruthless, I’ve always been burned my most when they expect things not to work, or access that they can’t and just give up.

Do people not think about what their doing? I’ve been yelled at for being in a relationship I wasn’t completely into but thought “well maybe we’ll catch fire.” Yelled at. Do people get yelled at for their impromptu decisions and realize that when they are feeling more cynical and give up that someone else might not.

I was born a dreamer in a world of children who followed the “I told you so advice” of their bitter old parents. I sometimes lay awake at night and talk these decisions out loud to myself. “but why would they do that” solves a lot of my problems. I can’t say whats wrong with people but I can see myself in the future, in a drafty old building drinking to myself and watching the people walk by on the street below. Every teacher and theater major and broken down dream sets to the pen to make a career.

Callous from the failing they write the wind in the wires and birds on a line and I get to waste money on a thousand wanna-be Hemmingway knock-offs. Maybe love is all plutonic and I can love the cratered streets of The Weir and its sunny hilltops and crowded quarters more than I can other people. The scenery and the emotion contained in my memories of how it should be. Maybe I’m just as bad as the women who’ve loved me but I can’t hurt memories and the streets won’t be hurt if I only go home to Taunton every two years.