Love

... is when you feel everything at once, and you can't decode them.

... is when you feel so much in your heart that it feels like it's going to explode into pieces.

... is when you have to be the most patient when all you want to do is to act as you feel, right now right at this very moment.

... does not require to be real. or long lasting. or any commitment. not necessarily.

You know the feeling when you just want to cuddle and kiss? Nothing further, at this point you care about neither the past nor the future; neither who you were nor who he will be; at this moment you care about nothing but the feeling of touch, of your skin to his, of your lips to his, of your knee to his. Of his hands and fingertips.

That's love. Love of the moment.
There is no other such thing that can make you forget about life, your most valued. Nothing... can ever make you feel like when you're in love.

Love is when you know everything is false but feels like right. Or vice versa.

But love is disappointment and hurt and pain and emptiness all the same. It is extreme pleasure and extreme restlessness, all in one.

It never comes when you are looking for it. It lurks behind the trees and the streep lamps, and makes you jump when you least expected.


Or so the story goes.