Game for Love

We're going to play a game. You and I. We're going to pretend we are In Love. You know, I'm talking about the real deal here, not some passing infatuation. Maybe we have already fucked, maybe not it doesn't matter, this isn't about sex, it's about love of the capital L variety. Imagine I am the one person you would die for, the one person you would live for. What does that mean to you? Who does that make me, in your eyes, mind, heart, and soul? You know, soulmates. You and I. Oh baby. Oh honey. Oh sugar. Oh dear. Already the Language of Love has been deconstructed into short, sharp, sickly terms of endearment for each other. I miss what we had already. It used to be so honest between us. Even with the lies. Bare-faced lying is a kind of honesty isn't it? When lies are so transparent that everybody knows it's a lie? There's a truth in there somewhere. I bet you cried the last time someone broke your heart. Left you, gave up on loving you because in their mind you just weren't worth the effort. You had become a disappointment to them. So maybe you spent a week drinking hard liqour and contemplating suicide. Who would I need to be, for you to love me that deeply? Who do you need to be for me to want to cut off my right arm and give it to you, just for a glimpse of your bright smile on a rainy day? Come on, I've got the hacksaw out, my arm on the block--don't let me down here. You need to be More Than You Already Are. You are Never Good Enough. You are a Failure in the Game of Love. Or are you? Prove me wrong. I'm waiting. Make an offer. I've laid myself bare before you, I've made my declaration of Love to you. Have you really nothing to say to me?

FIONA