measured emotions

recently, a friend told me that i was too rational for romance.

i immediatly conjured up an image of large mason jars labeled with different emotions--anger, happiness, love, whathaveyou--locked down in a cool cellar and kept in the company of shadows.

hung on a crooked nail, somehow wedged into the stone wall, are a set of measuring spoons.

and with each event, adventure and misadventure, episode and experience, the thick doors to the cellar are heaved open with considerable effort. i imagine a breath of stale air escaping from the deep and dark expanse of the cellar mouth as i descend down the steps.

perhaps with a shrug, most likely with a look of concerned concentration, i take the spoons down from that crooked nail and carefully measure out the proper amount of emotions from the applicable jars into a beaker--i'm a mad scientist now, but a rational one.

i swirl the solution, double check the proportions and deposit the product into a barrel labeled "reaction" that is stuffed into a corner, replace the spoons and lock the doors.

yeah, i suppose i am too rational for romance.