The wormies in my heart

Paragraph after paragraph of the warm happy feeling you only get from sleeping in during a signal three storm or sugar covered chocolate balls. It's like the little wormies in my heart had started a bonfire and were singing kumbayaas. The smile on my fool's face couldn't help but grow to comic proportions with each glowing word, articulating how I felt with heart warming accuracy. The wormies were considering a keg to celebrate. Until that one word. If I say it now I'll give it all away, but yes it was just one word. That one word that said that it couldn't possibly be me. This was followed by whole sentences of confirmation; rock salt in the wound.

One of the most twisted jokes on the planet is finding out that he feels exactly the way you do... for some other girl. And the barbed punchline is that you had started to believe that this was more than another one of those one-sided affairs, more than another one of your delusions. You had started to believe that you were special.

The wormies are still considering that keg, though not for celebration, but rather for getting piss drunk and becoming oblivious to how their little campfire is going out.

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I guess the wormies really did get drunk because I feel strangely happy. They have reached a state of blissful inebriated release and I'm along for the ride. I get the happy drunk without actually having to drink icky alcohol :) I love my wormies.