It is love of which I wish to ramble on about tonight: not grown up, used to each others faults, committed love, but the first heady rush of new love.
Now, it's not me. I'm not really in love with anyone, unless you count the chocolate cake that I'm devouring between sentences. No, I'm talking about Tegan and Alex, two of my co-workers, who should have gotten together a very long time ago, but haven't till now. Meagan called it out to me yesterday when she saw them in shopping but I wasn't convinced; today I must concede that she was right. She called it. They are in luuurve, the cute, sappy, hickey on their necks, 17 year old's version of love. The heads together conversations, the matching hickeys ("It was my cat," Tegan said, to which I replied "It's cute to have pet names, but that doesn't mean you need to literally name him after your pet") and the looks they give each other when they don't realise that Meagan and I are watching them just so we can see everything and be happy for them about all of it.
It's beautiful. I wish I could bottle it, and keep it in the fridge, and then whenever I'm feeling glum I could just get it out and drink-in a little bit of it. It's like a cute puppy. You no longer care about all the other shit that's going on when you see two teenagers making doe-eyes at each other. You don't care that there's work that they should be doing* cause it's sweet and cute and comparatively innocent. Let them learn later on about having your heart torn out by someone you entrusted it to, about the heart wrenching realisation that although you thought you knew everything about a person, you couldn't have been more wrong.
Actually, don't. I hope with all my heart that neither of them ever find out all that other stuff, and that they stay forever as in love as they are right now. Cause they are so gosh darn cute that it kinda make me want to be in love.
Now I just need to find a cowboy-boot-wearing, html-coding, Shakespeare-reading, beer-drinking guy who'll be willing to carve up the dance floor with me one of every four weekends. Oh, and he has to work late afternoons and evenings, and sleep in with me till lunchtime. Anyone know anyone who fits this description? Send me a link to his facebook so I can stalk him please.
*Sometimes I would care, but other staff members tonight also did jack-all without the excuse of being distracted by Mills and Boon-esque stares of longing. Which of course made me go naaww...