Love is

What is love? Some describe it as temporary insanity, an overwhelming need to please. Others say it is being able to feel comfortable in your own skin when you are with that special someone, no phonies, no fake fronts. There are then a handful who identify it with the feelings you get to be able to wake up next to him, take long walks along the beach and watch the sun rises and sets.. They're the romantics. I find 'em all too picture perfect to be true, it doesn't happen like that to most of us. But they're all right though. Love is a lot of things. Holds different meanings to different people, little tidbits of revelations adding up together. It is such a basic question to ask, and yet it is something I haven't given much thought about. People had asked me what I think love is all about and I'd tried coming up with an answer. It's not like I never did but I never could. It killed too much of my brain cells even trying to think up an answer to such a comprehensive question, so I usually gave up trying.

Recently though, it kind of dawned on me what love is.

Just the other day, J was telling me how this policeman was cute and then I looked and thought that the accompanying officer was cuter with his black-rimmed glasses, not so tall built and the muddleheaded look. It wasn't the first time that I thought guys with similar traits were cute. Then it hit me. They all reminded me of Wilson. So I thought of him, from his specs to his eyes to his single eyelids, to his constant witty but largely annoying sarcastic remarks, to how he always move away playfully when I try to kiss him, to how lucky I am that he's mine and I realised how much I love him. It was pretty amazing how our minds work. I really was quite amazed by what went through my head in those mere seconds.

So if asked again what love is to me, I'll say, it is being attracted to all those people which at the end of the day boils down to that special someone whom you're constantly being reminded of and realising how he is perfect for you despite all his imperfections. This is such a weird theory I know, but it is also the the closest I've come to answering the question.

Today is my 77th month together with the boy so I guess this is kind of my odd way of expressing my love. Okay I realise that this post is getting pretty kooky in all so I'm just gonna end here, quite abruptly.