From M in Mavis to M in Mary,
from J in Johnny to J in Jason,
we echo them—
in footsteps,
in laughter,
in love.
He walks like him—
that same happy-go-lucky lean,
arms wide open to the world,
as if the universe could never be too much.
And I—
I tilt my head at wonder,
curious eyes always chasing stardust,
just like her.
A monster and a human.
But who’s to say which is which?
I’m the one wrapped in shadows,
painted in black lace and quiet storms,
flawed and flickering,
misunderstood in daylight,
but never by him.
He is sunshine in a flannel shirt,
a golden retriever heart
in a world that can be so cold.
He loves loud, laughs louder,
and listens like it’s the only thing that matters.
Jason,
just like Johnny,
sees me—not just the sharp eyeliner,
not just the quiet or the questions—
but the heartbeat beneath it all.
And I, like Mavis,
melt at the simple things—
his awe of life,
his open hands,
his endless yes.
We’re not meant to fit,
but we do—
like a puzzle where the edges don’t match,
but the image is perfect
when you step back.
Love like this…
it Zings.
It bridges what the world says shouldn’t be bridged.
It silences the noise of “shouldn’t” and “can’t.”
It sings in the language of
acceptance,
curiosity,
compassion,
and the wild kind of devotion
that only monsters and humans
who truly see each other
could ever know.
Jason and Mary.
Johnny and Mavis.
A Zing that’s ours.
Think Johnny and Mavis from Hotel Transylvania—but make it Jason and Mary.
