Redefining Princesses

LOVE IS KIND OF LIKE A FREEWAY.

I think.

IF YOU CAME HERE EXPECTING ANYTHING LESS THAN A TERRIBLE ANALOGY, GET OUT.

So I guess I’ve come to see relationships/crushes/romance as … well, as a freeway kind of.

You get on the road at like, whatever age you start “dating”- whatever that definition is to you- and you cruise. You experiment with innocent little hand-holding at lunch or bowling alley trips that end and begin with your mom and the minivan, etc.

And that’s like, you know, the easy carefree portion of the freeway, where you aren’t even THINKING about exits or stops or gas or speed limits. You’re just cruising, no harm to even think of!

Then things start getting more serious as you get older and eventually the freeway IS SERIOUSLY THE MOST TERRIFYING PLACE YOU COULD HAVE EVER NIGHTMARED UP.

You get on it now and you are constantly getting tailgated (people hitting on you) or accidentally tailgating someone else without thinking (you hitting on people by accident) or you keep rubbernecking at a crash (failed relationships of others) and all this other shit. Everyone has road issues, it’s always different for everyone.

But what MY road issue is, is speed.

I like to go REELY FAST. I like to drive down the freeway at the speed limit exactly, and I’m having TONS AND TONS OF FUN because I am making FRIENDS and everything is GREAT and I intend to like, you know, pull over to get gas with my friend over there in the Camry, so we can maybe be more than friends, but one of many things happen along the way:

• I speed up too fast and they lose me.
• I speed up and miss my exit.
• A friend flags me down to help change their tire and I lose my partner as a result.
• A friend has a better car and catches their attention.

So LOVE IS LIKE A FREEWAY.