Zombie brides and other thrilling tales of instant attraction

Do you know that song Sugar by Imperial Teen? Find that song and listen to it. Youtube has a horrifying video, but you really want to hear the live version. That song feels like love. I listened to it nonstop on a flight home from New Orleans, with two little zombie brides in my pocket. I was practicing not saying “I’m in love with you,” because, you know, that’s so lesbionic. Hey, I’m Jill, and I’m in love with you. And a month ago I sort of thought I was in love with someone else, but, you know, my bad.

The first chat I ever had with her, I told her about the marshmallow experiment. Those poor little bastards resisting the marshmallow in an unsupervised room. And she said, “But what if you die before you eat the marshmallow?” And I was lost.

It’s just like that sometimes. Apparently. You’re pinging around thinking, if I have another insight, it’ll kill me, and then this girl tells you, Patience is overrated, and it doesn’t seem possible that she’s been living in the town you’ve been living in for ages and you kind of skirt around each other and she doesn’t even remember giving you a hard time, and instead of being crushed by her easy amnesia, you’re even more certain.

We got a mock-up of the wedding invitation today. How did this happen? I kind of expected to drop out of the sky for the rest of my relationship career. I don’t even think, I wasted so much time, or what the fuck was I doing, or Jesus! I still feel like I’m on that plane, with the song on loop, and the brides clutching their hearts and leering.

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