Carlos and Judy have been together for almost two years,

All their friends’ll tell ya, they are in Love.

Up and down, thick and thin, good and bad … in lllllllllloooooooovvvvvvvve.

They eat at the same table each morning together … sometimes

They sit on the same couch and watching the same shows … sometimes

They sleep in the same bed together and alone … no, not sometimes.

That’s all the time. Give credit where credit is due.

They’re in Love, but when you think about it, what the hell does that mean?

What is this “Love” that they’re talking about?

Is it some Random occurrence, like snowfall in June?

Is it some Illogical act, like driving down the wrong way of one-way street?

Is it the work of some Crazy other being, shoving two strangers together like sardines in a can?

Carlos and Judy met on the subway.

She (a singer) turned the wrong way down that one-way street going to an audition and hit a fire hydrant.

He (a contractor) hit a parked car during that freak snowstorm in June. Yeah, go figure.

They saw each other on that subway car.

It was one of those fleeting glance dealies.

She was getting off and he was mentally flogging himself for not talking to her

That’s’ when the crazy-bearded, end-of-the-world guy shoved her into him.

She dropped her groceries on his foot and she bumped her head on his

Voila: cupid arrows, Karen Carpenter singing, blue birds, church bells, Fourth of July fireworks,

The whole shebang.

White picket fences, the 2.3 dependents, a dog a cat and a minivan.

They even had the great story to tell those 2.3 kids and their 2.3 kids

Next stop, was till death do us part, right?

That’s love right? Hmm …

OK, yeah it is posies and bon bons and cards with rainbows on ‘em.

And oh yeah is it ever sweet, tangy, glorious

S to the E to the X. Never forget that part.

Yeah, that’s love, all right.

That’s the kind of love that builds those metaphoric bridges of compromise.

The kind that moves those synecdoche mountains of adversity.

The kind of love that conquers that metonymic “all” of calamity.

Ahh, that’s love …

Sure. Whatever.

I call bullshit on that one Cochise.

Love is that stuff, sometimes. But, what They don’t tell you is that love is also a Tornado

A whirling, whipping bastard of a Tornado:

A Tornado Of Sound, like the shrill screaming that comes from staying out “too late” and watching the game with your bros.

A Tornado Of Confusion, the kind that overtakes you when you ask if something is wrong and they say “Nothing,” so you roll over and go to sleep and wake up alone and are getting the silent treatment and then that makes you feel like a complete schmuck.

A Tornado Of Fire, the kind that torches in your gut and runs red on your cheeks when you go to use somebody’s cell phone and see numbers in there that really fucking shouldn’t be there … especially when you’ve had this conversation already.

A Tornado Of Naked Fear, the kind that beads sweat at the base of your spine when “It’s Over” is muttered to someone by someone as they are packing a suitcase to go stay at their mother’s and you start mentally planning what you are going to do next.

Whoops, I mean, “someone.” Not you and surely not Carlos or Judy.

.

What I’m trying to say is that Love is all that stuff too.

Yeah, love builds, but it also tears things apart. And when I say “things,” I’m trying to be nice and not say lives.

Yeah, love moves, but it also shoves. Violently sometimes.

And yeah, love conquers. But look up what conquer means. There is fighting involved and when there is fighting, there are winners and losers.

It is fulfilling and it is unfulfilling.

It is perfection and it is imperfection.

It is stable and flipping unstable.

It is adoration and hatred.

It is devotion and apathy.

It’s all that stuff. All of it. All at the same time … All the time.

Just when you get comfortable, just when you are getting ready to sit down in your favorite big, comfy chair, Love slides that whoopee cushion underneath you.

Pffffffffffffffffttttttttttttttttt!!!!

That’s what Love is

24 and 7, 365 Homie.

Ain’t it grand?