Love is Complicated. Do it anyway.

I’ve now lost count of how many times I’ve opened and closed the draft of this piece; did it again yesterday, in fact, so I could write the Edison one (good lord, I didn’t want to do this one so much I RESEARCHED THOMASMOTHERFUCKINGEDISON. …whooboy, if that isn’t the depth of avoidance, I don’t know what is)

love is complicated
love is messy
love is pain
love looks NOTHING like the stupid-ass fairytales we were raised on