Messy Cute (Adam John Shexnayder-Crowley, LA)

It felt a bit odd to see him. I watched as he eloquently placed groceries into his basket as the woman held on to his arm. I had only ever seen him behind closed doors. In the dark usually. But I knew he was beautiful. But I had no idea he was the beautiful. It was like a demigod that had never realized his full potential. And all I could really focus on was her. Her hair tied back, tight, as if she was trying to build a migraine. And those jogging pants as if she didn't know they were going in public (but she knew). That messy cute that only seemed to be messy on her. I had a right mind to talk to him. Go right up to him and remind him who he really loved. But as I squatted behind a display of ferns, I could only think of where had all my dignity gone? When did I sacrifice myself for "love". Cause "love" sure wasn't sacrificing anything for me.

A few days later I turned on the news at ten pm. As I brought the volume to 100% I heard the reporter. Her messy cute was really cute and her words put a infinite smile on my face.

"In other news, a local woman finds her husband tied to the bed at his hands and feet. She didn't bother to call the authorities because of the note she found. The authorities were finally notified by the housemaid during her weekly visit. The note said, "Tell her who you really love. Tell her what you are putting me through because I will no longer hide behind plants or closed doors. Oh, and tell her the messy cute is just plain messy. Love, 'man of your dreams'"

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