If you think you love him, maybe you do. Maybe at this very moment in time, you really do love him. That could change tomorrow or warm your bones in the grave. That’s the first thing about love — it comes and goes as it pleases. A spontaneous merry-go-round.
Love can be a soap bubble that glistens and floats and pops. It can be a sudden, warm summer rain that marches with wet little feet across hot and gritty foreheads. Or love can last, his name tattooed on your tongue forever.
So, first, get use to the motion sickness of love. If you can hold on, hold on for dear life. If not, don’t be afraid to let go. Fate is something we tell ourselves so we won’t go mad. Love happens, or it doesn’t. But it will always do one of those two things. If it’s not happening, it’ll happen eventually. If it’s happening, don’t take it for granted.
I’ve taken bites out of love, and I’ve had love take bites out of me. I have the scars to prove it, and one day, those scars will help me tell my grandchildren a thrilling and scary story that has a happy ending.
Do you love him? When you close your eyes, do you still see him? When he scratches his head, do you feel it in your scalp? Is every love song ever written specifically written about you and him? When he kisses you, do your nerves burn bright like Las Vegas neon? When you press your body against his, are you a cool pat of butter and he a warm waffle? What I mean to say is: you melt, no?
Is every morning you wake up next to him Christmas morning? Does the sun set behind his wonderful noggin? If he you were never to see him again, would it feel as if some vandal spray painted the windows to your soul with black paint?
Are we nodding yes, or are we rolling our eyes? Both? Because that’s totally love.
When you’re in love, you’re head is a hot-air balloon. Your stomach fills with jumping jellybeans. Love is sharing a secret language comprised of giggles, moans, and sighs. Love is molecular and cosmic, an imperceptible wink from across a room and a a marriage proposal during a baseball game in front of thousands of people. Love is every beautiful color, fragrant smell, melodious sound, and delicious taste, and without love, everything is grey, sulphuric, silent, and sour. Love is gravity, and without it, we’d spin off this planet. Careening out into space, and knocking the stars off their perches, crashing down.
Love is a magical stomach flu where you vomit champagne and strawberries.
Love feels like your favorite mitten. It feels heavy, like gold underoos. Love is cool Calamine lotion on itchy Poison Ivy.
And you’ll know it when you feel it, because you’ll ask “is this love?”