i stole this

What Is Love


Love is a slow kiss goodnight

It is anticipation.



Love is an imperfection in yourself not bothering you.

It is acceptance.



Love is passing up an opportunity because the time isn't right yet.

It is patience.



Love is a back massage that starts above the hairline and ends around the innersoles.

It is exploration.



Love is not having to say, "Let's make love", because you know what the other person wants.

It is understanding.



Love is being given an honest chance to say no when you thought you were committed.

It is consideration.



Love is saying the perfect phrase to make a solemn embrace dissolve into giggles.

It is humor.



Love is being told, "Stop and I'll kill you".

It is desire.



Love is reviewing the damage to your living room and realizing personal effects are strewn in a clockwise pattern from the front door to the bedroom.

It is abandonment.



Love is seeing what your lover really looks like for the first time.

It is truth.



Love is knowing what time it is and not caring.

It is joy.



Love is the arms around you tightening their embrace.

It is ecstasy.



Love is telling a person, if you have to leave, you will let them sleep, and being told they would rather be awakened.

It is tenderness.



Love is waking up to find the subject of the dream you were having asleep on your shoulder.

It is where fantasy meets reality.



Love is being there to wake your lover........slowly.

It is sensuousness.



Love is belatedly knowing why you bought a king size bed three years ago.

It is practicality.



Love is two people only taking up a third of a king size bed.

It is closeness.



Love is knowing you gave the extra set of keys to the right person.

It is trust.



Love is saying goodbye and knowing you will be back by mutual consent.

It is faith.



Love is stretching your arms and discovering the real meaning of the word "sore".

It is a lesson in human fragility.



Love is opening your medicine cabinet and finding your toothpaste turned into a pretzel.

It is adaptation.



Love is sitting at the window, looking out, and remembering who you were with the night before.

It is reflection.



Love is hearing the weather forecast for a winter storm, and wishing you could spend it in bed with your lover.

It is loneliness.



Love is stories that will never be told.

It is personal.


(http://flyinhigh86.stumbleupon.com/)

horoscope
for Thursday, July 5:

When you come from a place of secure self-esteem, an admission of vulnerability is actually a strength. What does that mean exactly? Well, that you trust yourself enough to handle being close with people.

So it's kind of like we made it.

We watched the fireworks last night from our porch, later bobbing and weaving down our gazes between the trees as we tried to catch the last glimpses. There's something so magically spontaneous and yet comfortably predictable about fireworks, which explode over our heads in magnificent controlled chaos each year. I remember last year, we watched movies at my old apartment and passionately discussed the downfall of American civilization as the explosions lit up the sky.

Now we have our own place, our own home, our own language of living.

Sometimes it's hard to believe, you and me. I mean, this is always what I've known, that you are truly my home. But it's funny the tricks your head can play on your heart. It can make you scared, lonely, and full of a swirling mixture of emotion. Instead of trusting, sometimes I hid. Instead of opening, sometimes I walled.

But through it all, through it all somehow we both knew.

I love you so much that sometimes it overwhelms me. I've never even started to experience this before, and there are these moments where I just have to step back and be amazed. Even now, sitting here trying to come up with the words, they just sort of elude me. I am in possession of that elusive, effusive, ebullient thing called happiness, and it's both real and amazing.


I know there are times ahead, times that might try us and make us crazy, and make us even cry. I am so 100% ready for them if you are there by my side.

I think we can really do this. Somehow, someway, this is it. I just was always waiting.


Part of me is scared to tell you all of this, most of all scared that my constant love and affection will only make you eventually hate me. I know that's stupid, and not at all the case, but that's my fear and it's better to face it in the open than to shove it in a deeper place inside of you. Like that song Dracula's Wedding, I wait my whole life to bite the right one, then you come along and that freaks me out, so I'm frightened. I get scared precisely because I am not stupid, and because that nihilist in me rears its ugly head from time to time. There's also that ridiculous little girl inside of me that needs, desperately, to be told at least 10 times each day how wonderful and magical she is, and how there is absolutely no one as awesome as her in the whole wide world.

Yeah, I know, unicorns and rainbows are retarded too.


I don't know, it just seems that for the first time in my life, I am in real and adult love. It's somehow deeper and more complex, like the smell of the earth after a rainstorm, or the reflection of light across water. It's not without its share of obsessiveness, but tempered with the experience of age and the simple joy of honest friendship. I want to always be this close, and to never tire of each others company or conversation.

I think we can do that.

I think we are right.

I think I'm not that afraid.




I am so damn in love with you.