In a world where wave functions collapse, so does my heart
Welcome to the never-ending, existential crisis that is my love life. It's like trying to measure the position of a particle in two places at once, except one place is in your heart and the other is in the depths of despair. I'm a master of superposition, a virtuoso of decoherence. I can be in love with multiple people at once, or not at all. The possibilities are endless, but so are the consequences.
I try to observe the situation, but it's like trying to look at a photon in a double-slit experiment. I see multiple outcomes, but which one is reality? Is it the cute barista who accidentally spilled coffee on me, or the charming artist who drew a beautiful portrait of me? Or is it the existential dread that I'll never find true love in the vast expanse of quantum probability?
Schrodinger said it won't work, and maybe he's right.