Love is like…

Sometimes love is great, easy, smooth. Sometimes love is like this:

You really like pancakes: you love them covered in yummy syrup. You can see those pancakes all buttery, warm and sweet in the distance. They are so freaking tempting. But, you’re on one of those better life diets. The one where you make good, healthy decisions for your life. You weigh the pros and cons of eating them.  “What if they are not as yummy as they look?” “What if they are really poisonous?” “Is it really a good idea?” “Will this set back your ‘better life diet’?”

Those damn pancakes though….

The only thing is there is a swarm of red ants guarding the pancakes. The only way to get to the pancakes is to go THROUGH the swarm. Are they really worth all of the pain you’ll have to go through to get to them? You make up your mind. You’re going to proceed.

Because, those damn pancakes….

You’re covered in ants now. They have been guarding those pancakes and they aren’t easily defeated. You keep keeping on and writhe in pain. It hurts sooo bad..

Those DAMN pancakes though!

Covered in red ants from head to toe you finally reach those pancakes. You’re riddled with bite marks, marks that will surely scar. YES! All that hard work has paid off. You convince yourself that the power of the pancakes will help the bites heal. Yea, you really should get an epi-pen, but whats pleasure without sacrifice, right?  You look around for a fork and notice the ants are starting to retreat. Almost as if they are afraid of the pancakes that you assumed they were guarding. You look at one of the ants and they shake their head (cause ants do that.) Why are they so sad?

Screw it! I don’t need a fork!!

You dig in. Hmmm…. These pancakes are HORRIBLE. Tasteless, no nutritional value. The syrup tastes like poison and the butter tastes like deception. That’s the only way to describe it. They are a big pile of poison and deception. They looked so good though.

Damn pancakes…

You have a choice now. Do you continue to eat them and just be happy you’ve made it this far? I mean, You might as well right? At least when people ask you about your scars you can say ” At least I followed through” Right?

Or do you leave them where they are and keep keeping on. Hopefully, you’ve learned your lesson and in the future you will just skip the temptations and stick to that diet. But then when people ask about the scars, what do you say?

“I fucked up” or  ” I am a fool for pancakes”  You’ll have nothing to show for all of your hard work but the scars….

You should have listened to those damn ants.

Now you’re scarred, hungry, tired and defeated. You have a severe case of Pancake-phobia and you’re all alone.

I chose to still eat the pancakes. I chose to say “At least I followed through, right?” I chose to fill my mind with all of the thoughts I had before I started the road to pancake hell.

“You really like these pancakes: you love them covered in yummy syrup. You love these pancakes all buttery, warm and sweet” Convincing myself that I made the right decision. SURE I’m in pain and SURE you may not think its worth it. But these are my pancakes. What if all the other pancakes taste the same and I’m just being picky. I tend to be picky.

I’ll eat these pancakes and be happy-ish.

Sometimes, that’s just love.

5 thoughts on “Love is like…

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