I’m writing about love and stuff.

I’m over at the Hooray Collective today, writing about love.

Here’s a snippet:

You don’t get a choice in love. It happens or it doesn’t. That’s it. You can’t raise your hand and expect to get it like a hall pass and you can’t avoid it either. It shows up unexpectedly, stomping and kicking its way through any sort of plan you thought you had, pushing in through the cracks in the floorboards, the ones you thought you’d sealed shut. When you think you’ve had enough of its bullshit, when you’ve had enough of its ruin, it comes back around and smacks you hard in the face, just to remind you, maybe, that HEY BITCH, you’re not in charge of this love shit.

Love leaves too, that’s the thing. It comes in, makes you fat and happy, makes you smile for days on end at the mere thought of a person, prods you willingly along on all sorts of lovesick misadventures, convinces you that harebrained shit like marriage is a good idea. And then one day you wake up and it’s gone. You might not notice it at first. Love’s a sneaky bitch. But, you’ll look in all your favorite hiding places, the ones the cats hide in maybe, the teeny tiny heart crevasses you’ve got nestled away inside of you, but sure as shit, it’s gone. It left. It ended.

Read the rest here.

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