And that’s a shame. I miss it. I miss the stupid things I would do, and the uncomfortable reactions I would have when I was around “her”.
There is something so magical about being in love that it actually defies description.
I spent part of this weekend dealing with someone that is losing what they think is “love”, even though they are far to young to even know what they are worried about. But the pain is just as real to them. And I understand it. I have empathy, and even though I won’t cry with them, I might cry later for them – when I am alone. I know what they think they are losing.
There is nothing as magical as that feeling when you realize you love someone – except perhaps for the moment they tell you they feel the same way.
Love is one of the most difficult emotions to describe. It’s hard to explain it to anyone that hasn’t truly felt it. I know a lot of people that think they have been in love, but the truth is, a lot of the people I know who thought they were in love just weren’t. They were in lust, or in longing. They wanted something from someone – and that isn’t love.
Love is wanting to give something to someone – wanting to give EVERYTHING to them. Love is insane, and remarkable, and gut-wrenching, and scary and exciting and confusing – and yet somehow so wonderfully perfect that you can’t catch your breath, or complete a sentence. Love is a total brain-fuck. Love makes you forget everything you thought you knew. Love makes you want nothing more than spending one more minute with that special someone.
It is the most confusing and irrational feeling in the world. And I miss it.
If you have a love in your life now – remember what it was like when you didn’t know if they loved you or not. Remember what it was like on that first night you kissed, or held hands, or just talked and realized that you just got each other. Remember what it felt like when you never wanted them to leave.
Yes, I miss being in love – even though my life is easy/manageable/predictable now. I often wish it wasn’t. I often wish I was blinded by the inconstancies of being in love.