Love Stories (Part Four)

You knew I would change my tune eventually, didn’t you? You knew I’d come around, be open to romantic love, want to find someone special. Hmmm…

I suppose, in some ways, this is true. I no longer want to get my kicks from licking the oil off of the backs of psychedelic toads. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, see part two of my “Love Stories” series.) I guess I could, maybe, possibly, sort of accept a companion in my life.

I don’t know that I want to be swept off my feet, slave to the pleasantries of infatuation, but I wouldn’t mind someone to talk to, to dine with, to play. Someone I dig and someone who digs me. So, my tune? My love cynicism? What has become of them now?

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