Loved and Lost

“I have to write a blog about love today,” I told the other three men in the car. “Any thoughts?”

I thought this a rare opportunity, to be honest. Based on appearance, we were all about the same demographic; in reality, two came from big families, two were married, two were gay, two were ex-military, and two had short, military haircuts – and none of those “twos” matched up. An interesting segment of American masculinity was in that car, and I wanted to know what the simple question What about love? would bring out.

There was a long silence. Then my friend Tom, sitting next to me, a professional MC who travels just a bit less than I do, got a faraway look in his eye and began to speak.

The thing about love is,” he said, “is that you can’t control who you fall in love with.”

The faraway look went away, and he looked down for a moment, off to the side like he was looking at something he’d dropped.

“And then you’re f*cked.

No one else really had anything to say after that.

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