Love is defined as a feeling of warm personal attachment or affection.
Personally, that definition pales in comparison to how I feel when I look into those capturing circles of chocolate.
How I feel when I look at that beautiful smile that sets my heart, mind, and body ablaze.
No, because I feel...
I feel a range of emotions from this interpersonal connection to this deep entanglement.
These feelings race through my heart, out both ventricles, through my arteries to deposit this tingling sensation
throughout my body like a thousand fiery red ants scrambling up and down my interior.
Is that how love feels?
Is that simply just a feeling of personal attachment?
Emotions flood my body and even deep beneath my rib cage, past those guarded brick walls..
These emotions intensify and I begin to feel this 'love' again.
That's the art of love.
Knowing that one day flowers can begin to grow in the darkest parts of you,
knowing that rare ripples exist in this world that have the ability to create waves of radiance amidst gloomy waters.
knowing that through the vehement sour thoughts of another being wrapped around you, I can still feel an interpersonal connection.
You are the one thing that means absolutely anything,
everything.
I will run my fingers over every part of you, searching for the slightest crack and pour my love into each crevice of your shattered heart.
I will love you recklessly (again),
again, I'll risk loving you wholeheartedly.
Is that the art of love?
The beauty of infatuation?
The allure of love is the desire to keep the memories tattooed to our brains,
the desire to stitch ourselves together, even faster than we're tearing apart.
It's not just a feeling of mere warmth.
The art of love is knowing that when he leaves, the flowers will be plucked as well; knowing that this can happen and still refusing to let that stop you
from pouring love into all disparate crevices despite the possibility of having a barren garden next week.
It is choosing to knit us together when we appear to be crumbling at each seam.
The beauty within love is the ability to incessantly feel even when it becomes too much.
The art of love is the ability to love when even living becomes a difficulty.
-jjss-
it's over now, but this is how I felt, how I feel about real love.