But you know the thing about romance is people only get together right at the very end.

[sparaticus]

The thing is (and I know with me, there's always a thing) I'm happy. Incredulous, I know. I can't tell you the last time I was truly happy, and at the moment, I probably shouldn't be. But I am. Weird, right? I don't know. That's the thing, I guess. I just find it hard not to be.

I fear my hard cynical shell might have cracked, exposing my gooey romantic insides. It's like I'm some weird M&M or something. And I don't think comparing yourself to a mass marketed candy is a good thing.