Before I proceed with this awfully-thought-of post, let me tell you straight – as a young little girl to a man, woman, sheep, dog or whatever you are – I am the worst ‘love guru’ there is. So in behalf of my non-alcohol drunk self, please excuse my lack of knowledge on ‘Love’. Like you, I’m still figuring it out as well.
This is what I assume love is:
Love is licking off an ice cream on a hot sunny day. You feel the sun burning on your skin. You could almost see the smoke coming out of it. But one lick changes everything. The sweet vanilla taste runs cold in your throat contrasting the burning heat.
Love is a swing set. No matter how hard you kick in, you can never go all around.
Love is getting drunk with your best friends. You feel safe and secured and take the cab home together, slightly embarrassed. You’ve had a good time and it’s that kind of friendship you’d like to take with your ageing self.
Love is the smell of a baby from a fresh hot bath. Fresh, new and delicate. But you know that eventually, the baby will stink.
Love is laughing so hard until your face numbs but you continue to laugh anyway. Because that’s love, you continue to do it even when you’re already hurting. I don’t know if that’s good though.
Love is that fleeting feeling of insanity while being scientifically sane. You do things you don’t want to do. You do things that you think is logically acceptable. You do things that feeds your insomnia. You do things that makes you cover your face with a pillow and yell. You do things.
Love is ugly. It bleeds the worst out of a person’s being. Jealousy, anger, fears, and more heated anger. It’s all there, gushing out.
Love is that moment of satisfaction and great intensity of feelings bursting out from everywhere around you with just a wink of an eye – his eye.
Or that moment of inferiority, but you don’t even care as long as he’s there.
Human beings. We are crazy.