How do you know when you're in love?
Sometimes I cannot tell if it is just a phase,
Or the real thing.
And then I wonder,
Does love exist.

So let's look at the facts, shall we?
Right,
There really isn't any.
Love is supposed to be that fuzzy feeling inside,
The taste of a warm cookie,
The perfect last chord in a song,
But what is it really?

No one ever talks about the hard parts of love,
The little arguments,
The hard conversations.
No one talks about disagreements,
Or hurt feelings,
Is that how it can be?
Can there be a little bad,
With a lot of good?
Can all that make,
Love?

Maybe love is working through those things,
All the hard times,
But how do you know?
Maybe love is being afraid,
Not in the I'm scared for my life kind of way,
But in the afraid because maybe love hurts.
It hurts to be vulnerable,
And it hurts to let someone in.

And maybe the reason it is really terrifying,
Is because maybe you won't know what love is,
Until the end.
You have to live love,
And let love live,
In order to know what is.
And maybe that's why it's scary,
Because know one living has a clue.