Oh, how perfect it all is— He brings her flowers once a year, "Forgot our date," he calmly says, She smiles and says "it's fine, my dear." They post their "couple goals" each day, While hiding fights behind closed doors; "Relationships take work," they say, As if that's what love's really for. He "supports" her dreams by nodding along, Then books golf trips when she has big plans; She says she's "lucky he's so strong," While dying slowly in her own hands. Friends gush about how "meant to be" they are, How they "complete each other's lives"; I just sip my drink from afar, Watching them survive, not thrive. But sure, let's raise a glass to love— To pretending everything's okay, To building castles made of gloves, And calling that a perfect way.