I thought I was in love once or twice.
I now know that it was just infatuation, but at the time, love was what it felt like. Now it seems so...so...it just pales in comparison to what I now believe...what I now know love to be.
I don't want to say that now I know better but I feel like that would belittle those relationships, something I don't want to do because every life experience shapes you into the person you are today so now matter how you felt about it, the beginning, the middle or the abrupt conclusion, you can't sweep it away under the bus.
Oh, I wish I could. Sometimes I wish it never ended that way; but like I said, it's shaped me into the person I am today.
This time, I wanted be absolutely sure before I labelled anything as love. Before I fell too hard, and too fast, without anyone to catch me at the bottom. Because this time, this time I knew that the impact would break me to badly to recover the way I would want to.
But eventually, I let go, I fell...and you were there to catch me.
I didn't realise when I fell. Or maybe I was in denial because I didn't want to fall. At first, I didn't even realise I was falling; it felt like soaring, higher and higher, above the clouds.
And when I fell finally, when it finally kicked in...was when you dropped me, for just a second, and the pain of the impact washed over me.
But I would do it all again for you.
Is that what love is?
Giving everything you have for someone, even though you know it could hurt you?
Giving your heart to someone, expecting nothing in return, and trusting them not to break it?
Since the first part of this, I've found a definition I think fits better than all others: "An intangible connection between two people that feels exceptionally good."
It's close, not quite, but the closest I've found.
For now however, I shall seek to define love myself, through experience. The highs, the lows, the good, the bad and the ugly.
Because now I have found love, I shall live in the moment.