Love is strange. One minute you’re hyperventilating because the person you-really-can’t-believe-you’ve-finally-met-and-fallen-for-and-somehow-they-love-you-too has paused for a millisecond over whether or not they like your totally-fave Radiohead track – next thing you know you’re firing cutlery at them through an open window and grinding their lawn ornaments into powder so you can package the powder and mail it in a sealed-envelope to their place of work with a picture of their least favourite character from Star Wars saying something about their post-relationship sanity in a comedy speech bubble in Comic Sans font because that’s their least favourite font and although it’s yours too, you’ll use it this time only just because the rage they now provoke inside you is just so overwhelming and you’ve ran out of knuckles from punching the wall in anger wow i can’t believe i once loved them and you hate bashing in their work email address now with your bloody hate-stumps but how else are you going to sign them up for the Concerned Nut-Jobs of America mailing list and a Pre-Approved Course of Medication for Penis Enlargement?
Yes. Love is strange.
VirusWithShoes: Redux 