I'm a sucker for junk food. Junk for the stomach. For the brain. For the soul. For the heart. To store on top of your fridge though you don't eat any them during the day and sneak them out at midnight. I'm a sucker for fat. Of chubby men that remind me that it's fine to be imperfect. Of stocky men who can hug you through a cold night. Of strong men to be your pillar when you're too tired to fight.
I'm a sucker for books I can't read. For glossy magazines I refuse to buy. For concerts I don't watch. For sports I can't appreciate. For fights I dreamt of starting. For arguments I can't win. I'm a sucker for envy. To the people who thought of bright ideas first. To the winners of competitions I've been losing. To the bastards who are luckier. To the people who are happier. To the misfits who did better.
I'm a sucker for unfamiliar places. Where I can get lost and find myself back again. Where strangers become friends and friends, distant strangers. Where nobody cares. Where food and water make me sick. Where poverty is perceived differently.
I'm a sucker for memories even if I don't remember most of them. To only vividly remember how it felt. How it changed you worse than what you were yesterday. How it made you wake up each morning thanking you're still breathing. How infinite happiness becomes when you let go of the 'was'.
I'm a sucker for love and all its complications. For a love that nobody understands. For a love that is not returned. For a love I don't deserve.