From the Male Scarlet Macaw's Secret Love Journal

May 30th, 2021, New York

Yesterday, I'll never forget that day.

I was about to give up and settle for any city pigeon on Tinder for Birds when my phone's screen suddenly lit up in radiant crimson sparks.

My eyes ballooned like those of a cartoon cockatoo. My beak dropped open and I drooled.

OMG! Let - me - tell - you. She was ruby from the top of her head down to her neck, as if she'd wrapped herself in a sassy red scarf.

In between her wings, the bright hue spilled like a juicy raspberry jam. Her name was, appropriately, Scarlet, I read on her profile, age 21.

Did I mention, my beak dropped and I drooled? I get all giddy whenever a tart like that flashes on my screen feed.

Not only she radiated the hue; she got a personality too. I could tell. She was totally smokin'!🔥

In one photo, she had a pansy flower necklace — gorgeous! In another, she was wearing heart-shaped glasses. I couldn't tell if that meant she enjoyed listening to male birds sing love songs to her or if she was into romantic comedies with happy endings. But what a treat!

Her beak was big and strong and her eyes were dark, with a texture of chocolate.

I swiped right on her, like a crazed bird. And, WOW! We were a match, just like that! There are some dating gods definitely looking out for me.

Goodbye for now. She texted me saying that she'll be waiting by the Zoo at Central Park at 6 p.m.

June 4th, 2021, New York

She didn't show up. That's cruelty. I was so looking forward to our first date.

I just can't believe she could ghost me like that. After all of the time, I spent hunting for the large purple aster flower for her.

June 7th, 2021, New York

I can't understand why she won't answer. Life is pointless.

She is the only Macaw girl I want. It's not like I'm a dirty old bird. I am only 78 and in my prime. We Macaws live to 150 if we are not killed by despicable humans like my Daddy was when I was a baby.

June 8th, 2021, New York

I know why Scarlet didn't show up. She isn't real! Right?

Is that so difficult to at least say hi? Shouldn't be too hard, right?

July 19th, 2021, New York

I know I'm a good bird. I have the big beak and I can use it to crack open all kinds of nuts. The Brazil nut trees in Central America are my favorite.

Scarlet, give me a chance... I have so much to give…

July 21st, 2021, New York

Nothing. Not a squeak. I suppose I’ll just have to move on.

July 30th, 2021, New York

I had a dream last night that I took my Scarlet to the Brazilian rainforests. I want to introduce her to my family.

Although, they are a nutty birdie bunch. They make a ruckus with all that deafening screeching at once.

They'll most likely scare her. I hope not. For some reason, I keep thinking that my Scarlet knows how to handle herself around loud birds with large beaks.

I'm telling you, seriously, my huge Macaw family should have their own sitcom on Netflix. They always crack me up with their shenanigans. All of those aunties and uncles, and those cousins I'm not even related to. They all have loud opinions and even louder feather outfits.

Did I tell you that we Macaws may live up to 150 years? In comparison, the oldest humans only live to 120 and I mean humans really look old when they are old.

I think humans appear to be older than their years due to their lack of colorful feathers and the fact that they fidget with their natural hair way too much. Perhaps that is their way of finding happiness. I don't judge.

What I am saying is I don't think my Scarlet would ever need a hairdryer or curling iron. Her feathers always look perfect without any such help.

I do not know why she hasn't replied to any of my texts. I'm exhausted from reading an endless stream of self-help articles about finding true love on the internet all by myself.

I can hear the other male Macaws scoff at me because of my crush on my Scarlet.

Are you kidding me? Man, she's hot! 🔥🔥🔥

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Dear Readers, thank you for reading! I write mostly about love and the meaning of life. Feel free to share stories with your loved ones. I also read my writing at public events as a professional performer. Special Thanks to Pamela Mayer — my tireless friend, editor, and collaborator.