I wonder if it’s because I’ve never felt butterflies in my stomach, my head spinning at the sight of another human being and my eternal effort to procrastinate feelings, but I don’t understand this unnatural need for perfectly matching someone else, also called love, but who am I to say. This constant search for the person who’s going to like you even when you’re wearing your most awkward pajamas, who’s not bothered by your questionable taste in music, your awful cooking and the way you choose your clothes in the morning. Someone who doesn’t mind your snoring and decides to stay for the night despite knowing you wake up late and don’t have food for breakfast. And the worst thing about all this is that I’m not saying it to sound intriguing, I simply don’t get it. And I’m pushing that moment of realization as far as possible, no matter if I still can’t understand the lyrics of songs, romcoms and happy endings with cakes and honey and all the other cheesy things used as a frame to couple-life.
I don’t know how to end this piece, so here’s the recipe of omelets. Now go make some to your beloved so that they feel the warmth of attention they crave. Voilà.
• Omelets •
Ingredients: flour, eggs, sugar, whatever things you have in the fridge (jam, chocolate, carrots, vodka)
Procedure: I have no clue how to make omelets. You’ll probably find it on Google or just go get some biscuits.