love is not an amusement park. love is sometimes a war-zone. love is blood and tears.
love is not convenient. love is, especially when it is not convenient.
love is, not always the excitement or the nervousness or the flip in my chest before we meet, wondering how i can impress you and beguile you to fall further for me. love is not the butterflies in my stomach when i look you in the eyes, and neither is love the way my skin burns when you touch me. maybe love is all that, but love is especially love when i feel like you are a familiar face that has always been around. love is especially love when i have heard your name ringing through the walls of my ears a thousand times over now and it no longer seizes my heart in a whirl of emotions. and love, love, love, love, love -- is still choosing to say that, to me, you will always be the you i met for the first time.
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