“What is love?” they ask me, thinking I recognize it only by definition. Underestimating my silence.
Don’t they know how many times I have felt it? Fallen in it? In fact, I do it brilliantly well. I’ve been known to be unlucky in love, sure, but I know it.
So I say it as a matter of factly,
“Love is continuously falling, not knowing whether you will trip or land on your two feet. Still, you risk it.
Love is being around more than too many people you could count, yet, your mind lingers on just one – their name, forever close to your heart.
Love is catching all the flaws, all the while seeing merely perfection and nothing but.
Love is being enveloped in sadness and an immense loneliness in their absence.”