If you were ever unfortunate to meet me in a cold, dark moment like the one covering our house tonight, many words would come to mind. “Hulk,” “bulk,” “goliath,” and so on, as I am not a small person. My face and body have not borne well those scars and savages of life. ‘Tis the injustice of art that someone with the soul of a romantic has the chassis of an erect Quasimodo.
I am a romantic. I truly believe there is someone for everyone. There are days when I sit at the bench of the local Wal-Mart, and revel in the hopes and dreams shared between couples of all makes and models, bonded by something powerful. When the news is filled with hopeless perils and predictions, these couples and families help me believe in tomorrow.
Writing about love is almost as much fun, as you’ll find in this latest chapter. In a heartbeat, over a trash bag of full of dirty clothes, an adamantium bond can formed for an eternity. All you have to do is believe, for one second, that love is possible for everyone. Once you do, tomorrow is not such a bad thing.
Edit: Might help if you had a link to my web site, huh?