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…as frustrating as knowing there is still a wee bit of jam in the jar but having only a fork to retrieve any. A straw would be better to retrieve what’s left.

That’s how frustrating love can be.

Even now, not many words pop into my brain when trying to describe the very tongue-twisting that can occur. I become what I once was (millions and millions of years ago): a single-celled organism…

…who feels like she’s talking to ANOTHER single-celled organism.

That whole “men are from Mars, women are from Venus” thing might possibly be right. I think I just experienced a Martian in my presence. Either that or I have landed on Mars from Venus.

Love is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise lies, lies, and lies some more. LUST is easy. There are (virtually) no consequences in lust, no long-term commitments, no compromises.

Love, the kind that lasts until your hair and teeth fall out, is hard.

At these moments, trying to live with a Martian (and the Martian living with the Venusian) are still far superior than living with any other…well, any other person, Martian, or interplanetary species.

Love AND live long and prosper.