Dear Outlet,

First of all, I would like to state that I understand our relationship is a somewhat uncomfortable one. It is no secret that the act of plugging me into you is emblematic of certain other forms of coupling that, in many cultures, are considered somewhat private, or at the very least, as something you don't do casually in the open.

Then, of course, there's the spark that passes between us the moment we meet. And, while slightly dangerous to the human hand that comes too close, there is the fact that this spark is somehow slightly pleasurable to us. After all, we're really only designed for one thing. I suppose the completion of that one task is more or less bound to be pretty nice for us. Once the spark is gone, anyway.
 

 

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All the same, there is the problem of those forsaken child-safety guards god knows who invented. There’s always some damned over-thinking mom who decided to buy fifty of them and stick them in you all over the house. Then what the hell are we supposed to do? That's like – well, it should be like a crime. Blocking me off like that. Who the hell does that bitch think she is? I mean, granted, I'm only a plug and you're only an outlet, but our connection is magical. I guess what I'm trying to say (and I've really been having issues with dust and rust lately) is that this shit with the child safety guards is really pissing me off.

I do have one thing that I suppose I should confess now, before any kind of commitment can arise between us, before we're made one, so to speak. Before I say it, I just want you to know that it's not something that's easy for me to talk about, and I'm not really proud of it, but it's a part of me and if you won't be able to live with it, then I'm not sure we can be together.

I fantasize about power strips. It might not be healthy, I know, but I can't control it. I wake up in the middle of the night and just imagine one of those long, beautiful vacant strips stretched out and glowing faintly in the moonlight, and the remnant static in me just surges. It drives me crazy, outlet, just thinking of those power strips with their switches turned to "On" and their unclaimed parts just waiting to be filled with a power-hungry plug like me.

In the same breath, though, I swear to you that I can be faithful if you can trust me. It's a lot to ask, outlet, I know, and I wish to GE I didn't have to ask it of you. But I don't feel that our connection can really be complete unless you can trust me finally and never question my dedication to you, despite my uncontrollable imagination. Because we really could have something good. I really think there's some remarkable physic between us, and there's something about that spark – that first surge of voltage – I always feel from you that makes me think we would have something more than electric. Something magical.

And I promise I will never short you.

Sincerely.
                                 

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