¡Hola Papi!: How to Come Out in a Walmart Parking Lot and Other Life Lessons

by John Paul Brammer

Yes, I think so. I think it is enough. Love is nothing without fiction. It’s a story, and like any story it can be told well or told poorly. And, Loveless, I think the idea of “the one” is the wrong way to write your story about love. “The one” is convenient. It lets us organize the mess of our past romantic endeavors into a binary of failure—there were the ones who revealed themselves as failures, that didn’t work out, but they were in the service of helping us find “the one,” the one whom we’ve been searching or waiting for. I’m not sure that person exists at all. I think there are simply important people in our lives. They don’t always stay important. They don’t always stick around. But the point at which we meet them, the point on the grid where our lives intersect, is a sacred thing. It makes them “the one” in that moment; just because that moment ends, it doesn’t mean it’s any less special. You can’t help but romanticize it, make stories out of it, think about it when it’s gone, as long as you don’t linger there. I was in love once. I was happy to be in love. I was sad for a while when I wasn’t. I’m glad it happened, and that it’s over. I do hope it happens again.