9)

“Who wrote the book of love?”
“…isn’t that a song?”
“Yeah.”
“A really old song, too?”
“It’s also a question I’ve been asking myself quite frequently…”
“…good for you.”
“You know how it is. Sometimes I get into these really philosophical moods—and I sit, and ponder life’s burning questions. Sometimes I come up with answers. Sometimes I come up with more questions.”
“…OK.”
“And I was listening to the oldies station the other day, and this song came on. And it’s been stuck in my head ever since, but it’s not because the song is just extremely catchy or anything. I think it’s because I feel like’s there’s so little I know about love—you know, how to properly show the world and people I care just how much they mean to me.”
“Umm…”
“And I keep wondering what it would be like to meet the person who wrote the book of love. And I wonder what he’d look like, what he does for a living. And I wonder what sort of wisdom he would impart on me. And I wonder if he—or she, I guess—would be married, or if they’re more of a free love type of person.”
“Umm…”
“Those sort of questions, you know? Anyway, that’s what I wonder about.”
“Dude…”
“Yeah?”
“This is a stupid conversation.”