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Diagram Number 3: The Human Population

Other People's Ordinary Love Stories

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with Mandy the market-trader from Milton Keynes. She smells of hot dogs and counterfeit perfume.

On our first date, I decided to woo Mandy with some Greek mythology I’d recently read: 'In the beginning,' I explained, 'all human beings were hermaphrodites with four hands and four legs and two faces turned in opposite directions on the same head. These hermaphrodites were so powerful and their pride so self-absorbed that Zeus [the supreme god] was forced to cut them in two - into a male and female half. And from that day, each man and each woman has yearned to rejoin the half from which he or she has been severed'.

Mandy told me to stop being drippy.

'But I think you're my severed half,' I cried.

Mandy did not reply. And we spent the rest of the evening in a disastrous silence.

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Please send me your Ordinary Love Stories. You can email them to me : andre66@gmail.com or leave them in the comments box below.

All stories must begin: I have fallen head-over-heels in love with ….. She/he smells of ...

And they must be 200 words or less.

I will then re-post and credit / link them (if you wish them to be linked) to your site.

.

Dmitri

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with Russian cellist called Dmitri. He smells of sex and vodka.

When I watch him playing, it is like he is using up his soul. He cradles his cello like he cradles me and he talks like he bathes in revolutionary poetry.

We met when I was a student and he taught me how to drink vodka, make blinis and why there's more to Chekhov than ducks going to Moscow.

I taught him how to make a proper bacon buttie, play pool and find the best beer.

He and his cello went back to St Petersburg. He is the only man I would have married.

written by Heather

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Too Big Fingers

I have fallen head over heels in love with the boy with the too-big fingers. He smells of sleep and cigarettes. He never shows anyone his smile except me, and he moves like he’s bigger than he is. As he clumps too-loudly on my wooden floors, I want to cry. When the light changes, he leaves me fighting sweet pea tendrils and self-pity.

“But you gave me a raccoon foot,” I say. “Surely that counts for something?”

I didn’t mean to cry. He doesn’t know I miss his manic-depressive cat and eyebrows.

written by Meg

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Creepy

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with my creepy neighbor. She smells of bleach and old curtains.

She spends her days looking into my garden from above. Her apartment looks out over my house, and I couldn't help myself waving at her, longing for her wrinkled face to smile at me. All day she sits there and stares at me, and all day I wander around in my garden, waving at her while the image of her partial face behind the faded curtains grows fondly into my heart.

Today I finally build up the courage to say 'Hello' while waving at her. She didn't smile. She didn't speak. I spoke up: 'Hello!' Nothing happened. I yelled from the top of my lungs, giving it my all, my heart.

She stepped back and closed the curtains. Now all day I am weeping in my garden, desperately looking up again and again in hopes to find her staring at me - in vain.

written by Wenz - www.denkendoetgeenzeer.com

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Jake

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with a boy called Jake. He smells of Christmas ale and homemade chocolate chip cookies.

I'm not sure if I loved him when he put on the toe socks I bought him, or if I loved him when he played N'Sync for me. I might have loved him when "All My Life" serenaded us and I slow danced with a boy for the first time in my 22 years of life. I might have loved him when he grabbed my hands and pulled me to the ground to sing me an 80's pop song....or I might have loved him when he put his arm around me, swept my hair back and told me that it didn't make me weak to feel sad.
I don't remember which moment it was. But when I walked out of the house on Garden Street, I knew it was him.

by jessica
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Lip Piercing

I have fallen head over heels in love with a jazz piano student who has a lip piercing. She smells of cigarettes and something sweet, and her hands are always warm and comforting.

I acted like a complete ponce when we first met, going on about this boy I had a crush on. She listened to me and smiled a quiet smile and I didn't realize I never wanted that boy at all, but her. And now I think of her and ache. I'm afraid too much has happened, she's living in a different city now, and the last time she called me she talked about a boy she's just met. He is a musician as well. I can't play any instrument.

Iida (http://iidantunnelmia.blogspot.com)

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Cerulean

I have fallen head-over-heels with a pair of cerulean eyes, particularly when they are framed by a pair of Persols. They smell of unabashed emotion.
Blue eyes are never just blue eyes. His have honey swirled in; if he were a Bob Ross painting, it would have been an accident; a drop of basic brown in the basic blue, resulting in a dramatically profound and realistic piece of life.
His eyes are most vivid when he’s upset, when I’m upset, when he’s tired, when he has consumed one too many beers at The Copper Hog.
His eyes are brightest when he’s living.

by Jessica
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Uranium

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with a nuclear systems engineer... He smells faintly of computers and uranium. His glasses are even thicker than mine and he laughs at my science based jokes.

I asked him to go on a date with me, but he just looked nervous and explained that dates are a mere social convention, ill suited for the discovery of real love.

I blink back at him, suddenly aware that he probably likes that ginger girl in accounts he’s always talking about.

‘Besides’, he says, ‘You’ve never had a real job, and you live with your mum. I’m looking for an adult relationship’

I watch him leave, his skin faintly glowing with its greenish tinge, and wonder if I should have become an accountant.

written by Zo www.zojones.com

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