Bugs Love Me!

We all want to love and to be loved, an innate instinct most of us are born with. Love is one of mankind’s strongest desires. Humans search for it longingly, end up in therapy when it is denied, and even murder one another for it, as is evident on the evening news. Love and hate are powerful words and are often used simultaneously, referencing the same object of affection. However all love is not requited. Sometimes those we love do not love us in return and those who seek our attention go unnoticed and rejected.

In my case, bugs love me! This is disturbing on so many levels, given my Lyme disease carrying tick bite that went unnoticed and was never formerly requested. I have had a long unreciprocated love affair with bugs. I hate bugs, but unfortunately they have always loved me.

One might ask why this affection? It is a mystery to me. Long before my tick incident, mosquitoes loved me. Is it my pale white, transparent Norwegian skin that makes me an easy target, as these blood sucking long legged flies penetrate my skin? Perhaps it is my particular brand of blood, sweeter than most and tantalizing to their insect taste-buds. As an example, if my husband, Dale, and I were driving in a car with three mosquito passengers, I would return home with three mosquito bites, more than likely excessively swelled and itching intensely. Dale would return unscathed, as if riding with butterflies.

Bugs love me! And now, much to my dismay, household flies, probably mosquito cousins having been sent in search of me, love me too. They don’t just fly around my nose and ears searching for entry. They have adopted me as their pet, sitting defiantly on my hands and wrists as I type, refusing to leave or be swatted away. They seem to know I can’t chase them down in my condition and they seek refuge and solitude with me. When Dale enters the room intent on their demise, they disappear like ghosts in the night, leaving me as the only testimony of their existence. Lately, while I am alone with my torturous flies, I have taken to yelling at them in a stern voice of authority, letting them know I am serious about wanting them to depart. I say, “Go away! Leave me alone! I hate you . . . you miserable excuse for an insect!” They don’t listen. They are not like houseplants that wither and die when unkind words are continuously projected towards them. My flies just sit and bask in the love-hate relationship we have developed. I have unkind thoughts towards them and do not mourn their deaths. I know there is a purpose for everything, but could somebody tell me, why flies? Why bugs? Bugs love me! Their love is unreturned.

“God in His wisdom made the fly, and then forgot to tell us why!”

~ Ogden Nash, “The Fly”

“We hope that, when the insects take over the world, they will remember with gratitude how we took them along on all our picnics. ~ Richard Vaughan

“Some days you're a bug, some days you're a windshield.”

~ Price Cobb