It’s the kind of love you have not known in your life. That kind of love that makes you a frequent –pinch me-am I awake? The one that makes you afraid of losing it, well not fear fear-but you know what I mean. The one which you know if it fades away might pose problems for other ‘love standards’.
There is a love that does not obscure your dreams, that does not request you to be less for it to blossom. It’s the kind of love that constantly bombards you with compliments of the genius you are, notwithstanding the possibility of it being falsified.
This is the love that does not render you a willing dust remover for shoe soles.
Instead it gives you every reason to better the normative better.
There is a love that gives you calmness of spirit and body. It makes you smile without jumping and getting confused at everything. Everything within it comes naturally and does not require you to grope for seer-ship, nor does it require your sensible self to disregard sense.
It’s the kind of love that gives you more reason to smile than cry. It probably is the love you were supposed to wait for all your life-it could be the love that you were being prepared for by being meanish to those that thought possessed it too.
This is the love one can qualify to be perfect.
Instead of requiring perfection from you-it requires truth; it is the love that loves truth.
It’s a love you can handle all your life, a love you are convinced bedding its blemishes will not give you nightmares.
With love to the love.