Love Gets Me Every Time

I think I’ve realized what real love is.

Real love is humble and kind.

Real love is knowing someone to a T after not speaking to them for decades.

Real love is picking up where you left off.

Real love stays, lingers, and remains unchanged no matter the circumstance.

Real love has changed my life.

All love is different. And I truly believe every love is a first love because never will you ever feel the same about two people.

This little love of mine. Oh, what a freaking night mare. I’ve learned in the past few years of my life that love can make you feel like a superhero on steroids and at the same time a heroin addict who has hit complete rock bottom. And the obsession I have with love does not help the case of these drastic emotions.

Laying in bed balling my eyes out, creating crusty drool stains on my pillows from a combination of crying and the endless hours I spent sleeping when I wasn’t crying. Endless piles of dirty clothes and using them as an excuse to stay with my best friend for a month.

Begging my roommate to bring me food because it was time for bed and I still hadn’t eaten.

OR…

Skipping down the halls, being beautiful because science has proven women in love are more attractive, screaming at the top of your lungs that you are indeed in love, waking up and going to bed in a more than excellent mood because you can look forward to seeing that person who lets sunshine into every single one of your grey days.

Roses are Red, Violets are blue, Love is a bitch but what the hell it’s the best thing I’ve ever had and even better that I had it with you.

Ugh, Love gets me every time!

See you soon,

Rocky