They kept on telling me it wasn't love. It was something, but it wasn't love. But what do they know? They weren't the one who lived inside this body that kept on getting fired up every time you laid your eyes on mine. They weren't the one who got to feel those tingling electricity every time your hands touched mine. They weren't that girl who died a little bit every day after you said goodbye. No, they only told me it wasn't love because they never know. Oh how it feels like, hot and cold mixed up, good and bad, everything nice and then so so bad.
But maybe I do not know at all what love is and so I thought it was. No, it wasn't love after all. It was something that paints smile on my face every time.