Love

3/11/07

I am intoxicated, hopelessly fixated, addicted, and madly in love. You are my drug, my sole reason for living. Love is my disease and you are the cure. My skin tingles as it recollects your soft touch. Those long fingers intertwining with my hair, going down, down, down; touching me with desire, curiously probing, inspecting tirelessly. Your cologne has become an everlasting part of me, always lingering in my nostrils, on my skin, taunting me in my dreams. My lips tremble as they think about our first kiss, never quite feeling at home unless pressed against yours. The echo of your voice still resonates through my ears, your braying laugh the only music of any interest to me. My eyes, with your image permanently etched in them, yearn to behold your face once more. Your intense gaze exhilarates me, making me quiver with excitement. Your murky blue eyes sprinkled with brown flecks draw me in, leading me to the depths of your soul, failing miserably in their attempt to hide what they are truly feeling. How will I ever live without you? I love you. I love you. I love you. I love the way you always say the right thing, way you anticipate all my needs and wants, unselfishly continue giving, never asking for anything in return but my love. I adore the way you climb the stairs, are not overly chivalrous, whistle when bored, never forget to put the cap on the toothpaste, run your hands through your hair when feeling nervous, always remember my birthday, our anniversary, and the day we met. I look forward to the I-Love-You notes cleverly hidden in my shoes, the flowers you randomly buy, your witty puns, hilarious jokes, and quirky observations. I love your thoughts, your body, your spirit, generosity, personality, soul, YOU! But in our love, relationship, in me and you, there exist many contradictions. Your simplicity makes you complex, you morphed into a thief the day you stole my heart, your honesty transforms you into a liar, your unselfishness makes you greedy, and your love imprisons me. Your passion becomes indifference, your hatred your love, and your anger your tranquility. Your love, my love, our love confuses me, forces me, compels me to believe there may be a heaven on earth after all, star-crossed lovers may have existed, and the soul mate theory may not be farfetched. Your character, laugh, warmth, unconditional love, and sincerity make me believe that perfection may be possible. But the ever-present paradox makes me wonder, makes me doubt. How could you ever fall in love with someone as imperfect as me? There. I said it. Your faith makes me doubt. Are we together because opposites attract? You know, the perfect with the imperfect, the flawed with the unflawed, the optimist with the pessimist. When I am with you, I am the lone keeper to all of life’s unasked, unanswered questions, all the happiness in this world, all the love I’ll ever need. But what do you get? I’m intoxicated, hopelessly fixated, addicted, and madly in love with you. You are my drug, my sole reason for living. Love is your disease, but am I your cure?