A Love Letter to Advertising

I guess it wasn't love at first site, Advertising. There must have been dozens of cookie and action figure ads...your attempts at capturing my attention that I just let fly past me, unaware you were trying to court me.

No, it wasn't until Tabasco. A man ate a pizza drenched in it. Smiling, he let a mosquito bite him. Then, after flying away for a second, the mosquito exploded. An enormous, tiny explosion. That was when I knew, Advertising. That's when I knew I loved you.

I started following you around with puppy dog eyes, hoping you'd notice me. Little did I know, you were trailing me along with a sly smirk. People told me I'd never have you because only someone who REALLY wanted you could ever catch you. Thing was, I REALLY wanted you.

And I caught you.

Our love blossomed at first. It was my first relationship, though, and it wasn't as easy as I dreamed it would be. But you were good to me. You let me be myself: funny sometimes, or serious when I wanted to be. You showed me you had flaws. And you showed me you had secret bits of perfection, too.

They say when you live through a tragedy together, it can bring you closer. I'm not so sure that's true of you and I. I always try to tell myself that I didn't know Paul that well, but it's hard to recover from something like that when you're still so impressionable.

You hurt me early. And lately I've felt nothing but hurt from you, Advertising. For some reason, it seems I only remember the bad times any more. You've become uninteresting and unreliable. Or am I the one who has become that way? That's the thing about long term relationships: you're never quite sure who's the problem, you just know there is one.

I keep grasping for that first lovestruck feeling I had for you. I miss that version of you. The one that wanted me to be my best. I wanted us to be so simple. To get along so well that we turned heads.

Maybe this break from each other is for the best, Advertising. Maybe we need some time to think. At least I do. I'm not sure where our love is failing, quite. Maybe it's a bit from both of us. Maybe I need to change my attitude, but you could stand to relax, too. I want to become that person again. The one who fell in love with a mosquito.

Until next time,

Emily