"Love of Your Life." Right. Piss off.

Google says "love of your life" is trending.

Fucking really?

Because I'm pretty sure my 'love of my life' is currently screaming about spilled juice in the kitchen.

Or it's the last few sips of a lukewarm beer I forgot about on the counter last night.

Found it this morning. Still good.

Ish.

"Love of your life." What a load of wank.

Is it the moment you finally find that stray sock?

Or the first time you manage to take a dump without someone knocking on the door demanding snacks?

Peak romance, right there.

Mine's probably the brief, blissful silence after I finally get the kids to sleep.

Before the wife starts telling me about her day.

Or I remember all the shit I gotta do tomorrow.

Or the hangover really kicks in.

Love. Bah.

It's a lot of work. A lot of spilled drinks. A lot of late nights wondering if you locked the goddamn door.

And then you wake up.

Kids are screaming.

Bills are piling.

The only 'love' you're feeling is a deep, abiding affection for a strong cup of coffee. Or something stronger.

Romantic comedies have a lot to answer for.

Making people think there's some magical, glittering moment where violins play and everything just works out.

Bullshit.

My life's soundtrack is mostly arguments over who left the toilet seat up and the faint ringing in my ears from last night's 'research'.

And I wouldn't trade it.

Much.

So yeah, Google. "Love of your life" can go trend itself right into a dumpster.

I'll be here, loving my quiet moments and the occasional decent whiskey.

And trying not to puke when the kids ask for a piggyback ride.

That's real love, fuckers. Surviving.

One day at a time.

One drink at a time.