Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Tastes Like Chicken

I've come to the conclusion that love is like chicken.

Really.

Think about it. I mean, what food do people spend the most time researching on the Internet? That would be chicken. What kind should you buy, how should you store it, how do you cook it, how do you make it more interesting? How do you rescue an over-cooked, dried out chicken?

The subject of love is just as much a conundrum in people's minds. What should you look for? How do you know when you've found "it?" How do you keep it? How do you make things more interesting?

How do you rescue a love that seems lost?

So, then, what's the answer?

As far as the chicken goes, I could spew a thousand ways to make it more interesting, what kind I would buy, how I would save my dried out birdie.

Love, though, is still something that mystifies me. There are people in my life I love so much I can't express it properly, but I still hurt them in a million ways. Not purposefully, but still. Relationships are such a dangerous thing. A messy thing.

Like raw chicken and salmonella.

I've been married for just over two months, and I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. I've found someone to love, someone who loves me back...someone who wanted a future with me. But I still feel every day as though I'm getting it wrong, that one day that love will be lost, and I'll be left alone. Frankly, the thought scares the you-know-what out of me.

So what makes me so insecure? Perhaps it's the knowledge that love is a mysterious thing. That it really isn't deserved or earned. That it's as volatile as a faulty oven. But the faultiness can be overcome, the mistakes can be perfected and used as lessons, the romance can be brought back. You just have to be willing to work at it. To pull out every ingredient and piece of advice and tool and use them.


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