Jake's room is crammed with stuff. Being a lifelong packrat, the room was full before he went to college. Now, after moving back in with his parents a few years later and having accumulated even more stuff, the room looks as if a walk-in closet has vomited. Piles of wrestling magazines teeter in a corner; wrestler action figures perform a still-life battle royale in a pile on top of a bookcase, itself drowning in books about wrestling and history; boxes of wrestling videos and dvds sit under a window, forming a makeshift nightstand; the computer sits on a desk surrounded by even more boxes; and the bed is jammed into a far corner blocking the door to the closet. Jake moves the bed to open the closet door, and, pushing aside some clothes on hangers, digs through boxes. He picks up one box and sets it on the bed. He sifts through it and finds a red envelope. He holds it in his hand and stares at it. Opening the envelope, he pulls out a Valentine's Day card. He sits back on the bed, and reads the card, "Happy Valentine's Day Jake! Hope your day is filled with hearty, chocolaty goodness (Hint . . . I know it is)! Love, Jackson."
Jake holds onto the card and lies down on his bed. He thinks, "A year ago, she loved me. What changed in less than twelve months? True, I was a little stressed while writing the thesis, but she knew love in the real world wasn't always a fairy tale, didn't she? What is love anyway? Is it like an emotional storm that blows in one year and blows out the next? Is it just a chemical reaction triggered by hormones, pheromones, or some other kind of moans to keep the earth populated? Or is it more psychological than biological, and I'm just looking for someone to love me in order to validate my own self-worth from an outside party? Or is it just a lie made up culturally to keep society moving along through the generations so kids will be taken care of by their parents instead of by the rest of society? Or is it something poets and musicians made up? Did The Beatles really believe that all we need is love?"
Monique, the cat, comes into the room and jumps up on the bed. "Muhrow," she says.
"Muhrow," Jake says, petting the cat.
The cat climbs on top of Jake and starts "making muffins", kneading her claws and paws into Jake's shirt. She starts to purr. "Maybe that's love," Jake thinks, "Someone happy to be with someone else."
"Ow, ow! Watch the claws!" Jake says, sitting up and pushing Monique off him.
She brushes up against him, still purring. "Well, somebody still loves me, I guess," Jake says, "And I didn't even have to buy her a Valentine's Day present to prove I love her so that's good."
He looks at the computer, and thinks, "And I have Internet porn for the less wholesome part of love. Who needs a girlfriend?"
He sighs, and says, "Me."
Blog Love Omega Glee is a novel by Wred Fright about two bloggers who fall in love while the world falls apart, which is being serialized on his blog. To start reading from the beginning or read another installment, please visit Blog Love Omega Glee Central on WredFright.Com. If you like what you've read, or you've read all of Blog Love Omega Glee and want more Fright, then please read his first novel, which is available in print and as an ebook.
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