Logic Beach: Part I

by Exurb1a

I reckon love is really confirmed in disgust. There comes a moment when the apple of your eye does something just absolutely hideous; rolls over to kiss you in the morning with Satan’s breath, says something a little mean about you at a party while you're standing right there, leaves the stench of shit in the bathroom unsuspectingly. And that is when love is either born or stillborn. The propagandised lover you’ve been sleeping with suddenly turns into a real, shitting person. In that moment you either plot a path out of the arrangement or give yourself over completely.