I love you.
So much.
So very much.
and what I’d love to do
is figure out a way to tell you that.
Some kind of letter or poem that makes you know I love you…
Like, when I tell my mom I love her, she just believes me.
She doesn’t make me prove it all the time, like you do.
My mom just knows. She just trust me.
You don’t. You never trust me anymore.
One time! One time I kissed another girl.
Do you know how many times I didn’t kiss another girl?
A lot. I had a lot of chances.
Hella lotta chances, yo.
For reals.
And you just stand there acting like it’s no big deal?
Believe me. It was a big deal to me every time I didn’t kiss those girls.
You know who appreciates the sacrifices I make?
My mom. Why can’t you be more like my mom?
Why can’t you just let me love you but also love others, the ones that kiss me in bars?
Why don’t you understand the real me?
It’s like… it’s like I don’t even know you anymore.
Oh, look. My mom sent a Valentine’s present.
Look, baby! Mom sent my half of the rent money!
I love my mom.
I’m gonna call her.

Five years.
This is our fifth Valentine’s Day.
Amazing.
I can’t believe it’s been so long.
So many years.
And not one…
Not one time…
Have you ever remembered I’m allergic
To chocolate.
Why do you want me to die?

i was just watching
those Russian Lesbian Teen Girls
how they kiss in the rain
and wear those little outfits.
At first, I wished that you were a lesbian.
Because then it’d be cool to watch you make out with girls.
But then I realized that if you were a lesbian, you wouldn’t make out with me.
But then I was like, “But lesbians are really, really, really
really, really
really
cool.” And you’d totally be my best friend if you were a lesbian, right?
You’d like, let me go to your lesbian parties and stuff, right?
That’s what I thought.
I love you so much.
So much, that I want to donate you to the lesbian community.
This is my sacrifice.
Now go and find us one hot chick, baby.
Happy Valentine’s Day.

i remember.
how easy it used to be.
i’d pull you close.
kiss you once.
and tell you that if you left me
it would turn black and fall off.

You tenth-graders are much smarter.

I love porn.
And pie.
And beer.
And ESPN.
And my car.
And my motorcycle.
I love blow jobs.
And my pit bulls.
And CSI: Miami.
And my bench press.
And God.
And my government.
And the South.
And chicken fingers with BBQ sauce.
And farting.
If you’re cool with being the 16th place thing I love.
Then you’re welcome to stay.

Hi.
I know we’ve never met before.
I mean, that you’ve never seen me before.
I’ve seen you.
Every night, in my dreams. I’ve seen you.
Running. Running through my mind.
And then when I open my eyes,
I see you. The girl of my dreams.
Because I moved in across the street and I’ve been photographing you when you get out of the shower.
That guy who chased you down Sixth the other night?
Hi.
Totally me.
My bad.
I only wanted to taste your skin.
So, this drink’s on me.
I don’t want you to know which one is me yet.
That’s why I sent this letter.
But I’m watching you,
Girl of my dreams.
Girl in 3B.
Girl who will never run fast enough.
Happy Valentine’s Day.

Don’t.
Just don’t.
Don’t say another word.
Shh.
Shut up.
Listen.
Silence.
Isn’t it awesome?
I almost forgot
what it sounded like
to not hear you damn voice every second of the day.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Where are you going?
Happy Valentine’s Day!

Now? Okay.
Fine. Let me put on my wig.
Hand me the pork chop.
No, I don’t need you to help me with my stilts.
How long have we been dating?
Aren’t you getting tired of all the games?

Four years.
Can you believe
we’ve been together that long?
It’s hard to even remember
what things were like before you.
All I know for sure is
I had a lot more room for pizzas and ice cream.
And look at you.
You haven’t aged a day.
And your make-up is still perfect.
I love you, head in my freezer.

What up, baby boo?
You skizzle my fo-shizzle
like a mizzle-nizzle.
Oh. Nothing. I saw it on MTV.
Sorry, Mother.
Happy Valentine’s Day.

One time
You gave me Five Pounce in a row.
And Cal only got three.
That was the best day of my life.
I’ve never forgotten it, and I’ll always remember
That you’re the one who made it happen.
I love you, Pamie.
I puked this just for you.
I put it by your pillow, so you can dream of us.

Love, Taylor