Dog Shit

I’ve not written here for a while. I read today that “Falling in love is like stepping in dog shit. You aren’t looking for it, and then it stinks”.  The tweet was not even vaguely directed at me, but struck a chord nonetheless. Should this actually be true, in the specific for the tweeter, or in the general sense, it seems that I am left with either a smelly foot or shoe.  Common sense would seem to dictate the cleaning of the affected part be it shoe or foot. I can only suppose that the inference is that to fall out of love is the preferred manner of that cleansing.  Having in the past year fallen victim to having stepped into this dog shit of love(if that is an accurate metaphor) I find myself pondering now whether this be true for the object of my affections and if so, why hasn’t this been brought to my attention. Some days I overthink everything. This may just be one of those days.  Dog shit, I guess it’s still on my shoe, I just smell it now.