Love is a morbid playground

Today’s prompt is playful. Honestly for someone who has an apparently negative outlook on life, the word playful kind of steers me in the wrong direction. When I hear the word playful I think of those cheesy, annoying couples that are always straddling and making out in the movie theatre. And they are in the seventh grade, colorful bows on the pigtails and an excessive amount of optimism making the goths only a few years ahead in the line of school gag.

In general, however, love is something you can never escape. If you live in a Hispanic environment, like me, then you have to understand that grandparents are always obsessively asking you when you are going to attract someone of the opposite sex into family dinners. It gets pretty old pretty quickly, but it should be something you embrace and cherish. Love is raw, organic (the words all hopelessly romantic poets use to describe love) but over all else it is rare. I have yet to find it and if you have already found it then bless your heart because it takes a lot of work to be committed to someone.

Why did I call love a morbid playground? Well you are giving your soul to death because this person has your heartstrings around their fingers like a nice pearl pendant. Aside from that everything is unpredictable and I highly doubt anyone knows everything that their partner is thinking, which sucks. But hey, fall in love. Take the risk, it is so worth it. For anyone afraid to love, be afraid of solitude. We need both but you can get solitude anywhere, you can’t find a six-foot tall man anywhere, so good luck. I bid you your life.



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