If you are going to bother with all this valentine’s business then I really think that you should write what you have to say on a banana. It’s win win. Because even if the love (love?) is unrequited you still got to write on a banana.
It’s all bullshit anyway. All people do is fill cards and folded pieces of paper with words and fluffy, empty sentiment. I love words but they rarely mean anything in the end, not really. When you’re left in a crumpled heap with one batman DVD missing.
You can say them over and over, in whatever order you want – it doesn’t mean that they’ll stick. And you can keep them on scraps on paper, hidden away in shoe boxes as proof but sometimes it’s better not to see that you mattered once for a bit but not in the end.
You can look down at the words scratched into a leaf ripped from an exercise book and see them existing when the love no longer does. Meaningless squiggles against a backdrop of rash decisions.
Bananas perish when they’re supposed to, way before the love.
