Love is Like Watching Games 3 through 6 of the NBA Finals When You’re Rooting for Cleveland


Love is Like Watching Games 3 through 6 of the NBA Finals

When You’re Rooting for Cleveland


I didn’t care

about the NBA Finals

this year

or any year


but Jonny and Shayna did

so they came over to my place last week

and we watched basketball


Cleveland had LeBron James back

after he’d left them

(which sounded insane to me!

because they never come back!)

and he was trying his hardest to make it up

to Cleveland for leaving

by winning them the title of

Best Basketball Team In The NBA


and I thought, SHIT!



This wasn’t just a game!

This was James waging

a war against


Leaving! and Heartbreak!

and all the other forces

that exist for the sole purpose

of pissing on Love!


and because of this

I found myself

immediately invested


This thing had become important!

This thing represented goddamn



It was a war of the Heartbroken

fighting their way back

to falling in Love


and Game 3 was like

that first date


I was terrified until I was nervous

and then the next thing I knew

I was drunk and I couldn’t stop smelling her hair

or cease smiling

and we liked all the same things

and had both read Don Quixote


it was perfect and it was beautiful and

the night loomed until

it ran out of looming


and when it was over

Cleveland had pulled it off!

The armies of Leaving were on the run!


and when I woke up the next morning

I had sex beard and the Morning had sex hair

and my dick felt like it’d been lifting weights all night

and the world was no longer

made out of doom


During those days between games

3 and 4 I felt bulletproof

and mighty

instead of heart whipped

and broken


Our army was winning!

And winning was fun!


but then Game 4 came around

and Cleveland lost this time


and then Game 5 came around

and Cleveland lost even harder


and by the time Game 6 swooped in

our little rebellion was already

gut-shot and outgunned


and the war was lost

only 3 games after it had started


and I thought to myself: fuck


love is Game 3

followed by heartbreak

followed by horror

followed by grief

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