Thursday, December 01, 2005
A Love Letter to My Best Friend
Haaland my dear,
Tonight you said I was high on painkillers but I wasn’t. I was high on the euphoria you bring into my life. Like the time we were in a debate and you exposed your overly p.c. tendencies by calling the black people in France, “African America.” I love you for those debates where you pretend to be right but you know you are wrong and I take my throne of King of the argument by finishing off the words…”Poop head.” You said you were upset because I don’t send you long romantic emails anymore but I must ask…How can an email compare?
How can an email compare to the way I stare into your Norwegian blue eyes?
How can an email compare to the way I let you distract my blog writing in the school’s computer labs?
How can an email compare to the fondness I find in the way you cry over a Harry Potter book?
How can an email compare to how I love to see your face smiling back at me in a cheesy metro coffee shop, The Grind?
How can an email compare to you waking up to share the romantic morning with me?
How can an email compare to watching you learn French?
How can an email compare to watching you try to play The Beatles’ “Something”?
How can an email compare to your warm body holding me in bed?
I can’t find a good comparison between any of these things, but one thing I have found is your love- and I know I would be lost without it…I love you poop head!!!!
Nick
Haaland my dear,
Tonight you said I was high on painkillers but I wasn’t. I was high on the euphoria you bring into my life. Like the time we were in a debate and you exposed your overly p.c. tendencies by calling the black people in France, “African America.” I love you for those debates where you pretend to be right but you know you are wrong and I take my throne of King of the argument by finishing off the words…”Poop head.” You said you were upset because I don’t send you long romantic emails anymore but I must ask…How can an email compare?
How can an email compare to the way I stare into your Norwegian blue eyes?
How can an email compare to the way I let you distract my blog writing in the school’s computer labs?
How can an email compare to the fondness I find in the way you cry over a Harry Potter book?
How can an email compare to how I love to see your face smiling back at me in a cheesy metro coffee shop, The Grind?
How can an email compare to you waking up to share the romantic morning with me?
How can an email compare to watching you learn French?
How can an email compare to watching you try to play The Beatles’ “Something”?
How can an email compare to your warm body holding me in bed?
I can’t find a good comparison between any of these things, but one thing I have found is your love- and I know I would be lost without it…I love you poop head!!!!
Nick
# posted by Nick D @ 12:10 AM 
Comments:
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Cute. It's easy to get swept up in all these moments. Our busy lives leave little room for consciously expressing love, especially if we believe we're operating under love's umbrella all the time. As an idiot, I know it's all too easy to just keep serving love without stating it.
For our lovers, we need to remember that a simple note makes a huge difference. Even cheesy, stupid-sounding stuff can turn out to be a keepsake gem.
It's hard, because romantic love is sometimes fleeting and temporary. Love changes and takes a different shape over time, causing different forms of expression to occur.
hehehe, I love how I can just spout off on this grandiose subject as if logic and my thoughts can even come close to touching it!
I better go do some homework before y'all start hurling rotten veggies.
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For our lovers, we need to remember that a simple note makes a huge difference. Even cheesy, stupid-sounding stuff can turn out to be a keepsake gem.
It's hard, because romantic love is sometimes fleeting and temporary. Love changes and takes a different shape over time, causing different forms of expression to occur.
hehehe, I love how I can just spout off on this grandiose subject as if logic and my thoughts can even come close to touching it!
I better go do some homework before y'all start hurling rotten veggies.
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