You think you know what love is just because you got your sweetheart a nice hat or a fancy coat or a copy of Avril Lavigne‘s seminal 2002 album Let Go on limited edition white double LP? You don’t know shit, son. You don’t know shit until you’ve seen the master, the king, the absolute lord of enduring, everlasting love in a long-term relationship: This bloke.
This champion.
This messiah.
This long-suffering legend, who begrudgingly helped re-arrange all the furniture in his lounge room so his outrageous and cute as hell wife could do snow angels on the luxurious white carpet.
This brow-furrowed maniac, who stood on the coffee table to film the shenanigans on Boomerang without so much as a single question to the contrary.
This living saint, whose face screams “help me” but whose eyes carry the endless depths of his love for this weird, wonderful, outrageous woman.
I’ve learned more about love from watching my dad reluctantly rearrange the living room so my mom can make snow angel boomerangs for her 29 Instagram followers than anything else in life pic.twitter.com/nMHdWtY0dE
— Taylor Burkhalter (@TLBurkhalter) December 24, 2017
The last picture. The last picture.
That? That’s true love. Right there.
Awful, inexplicable, unconditional, exasperatingly stupid love, in all its glory.
And in case you were wondering if going to all that effort for a simple Boomerang was worth it…
https://twitter.com/_xysmnex/status/945207704502484992
…it 10,000% was.
Merry Christmas, lovebirds.
