But we're in love

So, you see, it would not be fair or reasonable to ask us to stop holding hands for a few seconds and walk single file so someone approaching us can share this sidewalk and not have to step off and walk in the busy street beside it. We are in love, and we’re just going to continue in our blissful reverie, side by side and taking up the width of this sidewalk.

 

I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to step out onto the very narrow shoulder and risk getting hit by a car. There is nothing we can do for you.

 

For how could we be separated even for a moment as we walk hand in hand? We love each other. See how as we walk, we are sort of folding into one another? It’s almost as if we were one person. Asking us to break formation to walk single file—even for a moment—would be a crime against Love.

 

Maybe you don’t understand that if you’re just walking down the sidewalk alone, without anyone to share the experience with. You’ll just have to step aside when couples come along. Walk through the dirty water that runs into the gutter and let us pass. 

 

As we walk, we talk in hushed, intimate tones. I cannot miss a moment of my lover’s conversation. For we are planning a future of love together. To ask us to detach to accommodate the needs of someone who isn’t us would break the spell of love. It would risk our gossamer dream tearing in two. Even if we were to detach and reform our positions milliseconds later, it would never be the same. Something in us would have died.

 

So don’t even try to be bold enough to walk down the right side of the sidewalk without stepping completely out of our way. You will only be met with our perplexed and outraged stares as we absorb your unmitigated gall and look at you like you have three heads. Our love is big enough to take up two lanes and we cannot be expected to make the sacrifice of walking in momentary single file.

 

You’re just going to have to clear the way and take your chances in traffic. For we are in love, and all those little examples of common courtesy and consideration suddenly seem very far away, drowned out by the perfection of our reverie.