Misgivings

I wonder if people realise my ugly little secret. It’s more than likely quite obvious that I, Cooper, am a complete and hopeless romantic at heart.

The sappy gaggy you make me want to kill myself kind of hopeless romantic that swoons and dreams about happy ever after.

I want love. That love that is all encompassing, soul devouring I can’t get enough of you I’ll never be able to live without you kind of love. The one that lasts forever. You grow old together. When you’re unable to control your bowels or chew solid food just the sight of their smile or their hairy butt crack and wrinkly balls still makes your heart fill and your face giggle. When everything hangs about 5cm lower than it used to and you can stretch your neck skin to your nose all you still ever want is to be in their presence.

Where you don’t have to say a word, and you still fall asleep hand in hand.


You know. The type that doesn’t exist anymore.

It’s like nerds and UFO sightings. You keep believing that there is something out there.