I was thinking about the crazies one goes through when ‘falling’ in love and the chemical imbalance in your brain that makes you feel so euphoric you want to eat unicorns and shit rainbows. Listen we’ve all been there even if it was unrequited love… we all know that falling hard is on par with being clinically insane. However my fine friends, I believe that the first few moments, weeks, months of being in a relationship and it’s all romance and sexy times… that it’s just trapped wind. In fact I would go as so far as saying it’s bordering on gastroenteritis/stomach flu.
Completely absurd you say?? Well think of it like this…
You know when you fancy the pants of someone and thinking about them makes your belly flip… Well these butterflies are simply gurglings of excess gas swirling around in your stomach. Now you hold it in because there is no way in hell you wanna let rip and ruin what you have. Like go outside… or do the old “I’m sure I can hear my phone ringing in the next room” (despite your phone being in your pocket) and dispel the evil fumes of your asshole into an empty room. Then of course wave your arms around erratically to try and push the fumes out of harm’s way! But if you are hanging with your beloved and it is the honeymoon stage, you suck in the wind, clench your butt cheeks and pray that if they tickle you as you flirt outrageously, that your stinking bum doesn’t let the side down.
So on you go. You date, you hold hands and you actually make the effort with each other whilst you still conceal the fact that you don’t fart. Especially if you’re a girl… we just don’t do it. And the harmful trapped wind is still mistaken for the fanciful feelings of a new love…
And then one day as you’re innocently watching telly… you no longer can contain the nuclear waste and you let out what you think is a silent odourless scent… when in fact it’s the loudest eye watering stench and you’re pretty sure you’ve followed through. What a relief! However all of sudden the once warm belly gurglings you thought were strawberry perfumed butterflies… have evaporated. Your true colours seep through and you have to admit that yes like every other person on this planet… you too do fart.
The romance is dead. Normality is restored and you both continue dating or you realise that you can’t handle the farting and have to sever all ties.
Now in amongst this ramble there is a metaphor for falling in love and how this is sustained… or sometimes ended in spectacular fashion. All I can say is that as soon as I was woken one night to the sounds of a girlfriend having a diarrhoea episode… we split up pretty soon after. Once the glamour of falling in love with your partner disintegrates, only the fittest survive. And to those who love your other half, stinky farts and all… I salute you. I however will be continuing to chase my fairy-tale princess down lollipop lane in the land of make believe.