Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
-St. Augustine
For it was not into my ear you whispered but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.
-Judy Garland
I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone but I can tell you what it is for me: Love is knowing all about someone and still wanting to be with them more than any other person; love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of; love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone but still getting weak in the knees when they walk in and smile at you.
17 days! Or something like that.
11 years ago
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