Love is tacky. Love is cheap. Love is scrolling through an endless amount of ****** online dating profiles on a Saturday night. Love is not subtle. Love is two people bargaining, lying to each other, lying to themselves. Love keeps track of every misstep so as to hold it against their partner in an ongoing war of attrition so that they get to pick what to watch on Net-Flix. Love does not rejoice in itself, but does so on Facebook, so that you can rub it in the face of your ex, and all those friends that just really want to watch you fail. Love is cheap. *** with a price tag marked to sell. Love is dead.