The Stars and the Cookie Jar

I have this to say to some people who said some things about her.



You know what, anonymous impaired persons who have to get their pathetic rocks off by heaping shit on others?

We must be voyeuristic and silly too.

We're voyeuristic, and silly, and transferring jobs and rewriting leases and planning legalities and making this work, even if we do live 413 miles apart.

Finding the one you love. Oh, yes, how silly.

I can guarantee you neither of us meant to fall in love with the other. It was a holiday-weekend last-of-summer spree, with a gang of people. It was a fandom meet in a major metro city. It was the kind of thing that happens all the time.

We were hanging out, not looking for our life match. It just... it happened. Boom. Done. It didn't ask our permission. There was, suddenly, just this empty ache where I needed her to be, inside my heart.

And you know, it might be a fantasy. But I've never found myself having a fantasy that involved stating my relevant information to the clerk overseeing our joint savings account...

muffinbutt, you know we'll help if we possibly can. Or we'll put our heads together and find a way.