Love is complex series of brain functions and neuronal receptors and chemicals. It happens in your brain.
Love is a complex series of brain functions and neuronal receptors and chemicals. It happens everywhere. Toes, hang nails, eyeballs, knee caps.
Love is letting go even when you really don’t want to.
Love is a deadly mixture of pink hearts, soft blankets, and mud.
Love is a religion for the lonely. You give power to something that you aren’t really sure exists. You read books about it. You put signs in your front yard about it. It has holidays and protests and FaceBook fan pages and URLs and laws.
Love is a political party. Its platform is passion and half of its followers don’t know what it stands for.
Love is your brother’s hand-built Star Wars lego dioramas. You might accidently break it when you’re too young to understand that the consequences are going to be lifelong.
Love is “agreeing to give it three months”.
Love is fishing for sport. The humane “catch and release” policy. Throw a hook in out there, get a bite, reel it in, admire it for a minute, give yourself a pat on the back for the great job you did in catching it, pull the hook out, toss it back where you found it. Repeat steps until death. It wasn’t really yours in the first place.