The "Perfect" Lover
He wanted everything to be perfect, and he wanted to fix everything that he loved. Love to him was a thing that is a straight line/ a row of M&M's all the same color/ a harmoniously written list on a paper; if anything fell out of line or changed color or was crooked, that to him meant something bad and love couldn't have anything bad in it therefore he had to fix everything. Until everything became a straight line. Until everything became one color. Until all the words on the list were in only one handwriting. Until he began to be happy with something that couldn't make anyone else happy. Because love isn't a straight line nor is it something that is only one color all over and it's certainly not written in only one man's hand. And by the time he began to be happy, he also began to see that the ground he was standing on had already fallen out from under him; there was no ground left for him. Everything was "perfect" and now everything was over.
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