July 3, 2008
By Melanie Blevins, Anna, OH

To be quite frank here, I'm honestly surprised how long it's taken me to figure out exactly what love is. This is my explanation, my analogy, my opinion, my logic, to such a spectacular event in a person's life. It is as follows:

"Love is the cigar we all willingly smoke."

It's the new trend, the new scene, the new anesthetic, to our problems these days. And with this new deal, we'll buy all the cigars and cigarettes we want. All the tobacco we can jam into our sponge like lungs just to give us a feeling of acceptance, admiration and on the contrary a slight feeling of ruthless self-loathing.

For love is a cigar, the finest cigar you'll ever smoke. One made from cuba or panama; simply the best. With the arms of two people that resemble the leaves, they'll hang on tight to what ever they have, holding in the entrails of all the affection inside such a small smoke. That one stick, of tobacco folded loosely inside the such a cigar or cigarette is what we all want. We want love to aid our beating fragile hearts in such a time; a time of great triumph.

And when we light that cancer stick, the smoke smothers us with everything our hearts can offer. Love, lust, and most importantly acceptance. We inhale such a a smoke and our hearts start to dance, for the most potent song to dance song is that of a love song. It changes you, it changes the way your heart beats. Skipping, pausing, taking breath away, and to me that sounds quite dangerous.

Love is great, love is extravagant, and exquisite if you can find the cigars you fancy to smoke; to swallow. For love is not a bond between two people, but two living, breathing, beating hearts wishing to reside one single chest. Love is great, simply great.

And I strongly believe, if it weren't for love, the doctors would never make a living off of our mangled cancer infected bodies. Yes. love. Only love could be the culprit of such an act.

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