I want love like sweet, sugar floss bleach hair. Like watching the multicolor soap hit the windows of your car. I want love like being saved from a bathtub overdose and I want love like seeing doubles of each other.

When you’re like me, you idealize movies like Candy. You fall in love with the idea of being the coolest people in McDonald’s. You fall in love with the idea that no matter how truly fucked you are, someone might be fucked too. Someone might be even more fucked than you. Someone might indulge in the self-indulgency of your bad poetry. That someone might be the Dan to your Candy. That someone might carry your heart. Carry your heart in theirs. That you might find that secret glue that holds all things together in a perfect place. That one day, the noise will not intrude. That your world will one day be so very complete.