A Post About Love

I'd decided that me writing about love was senseless, simply because

I'd never had the pleasure of being in it.

So naturally I decided to seek advice from two people who I knew had been in love, at least at some point.

 "Love is like _______, you _________________," Is the question I asked my dear parents.

Moms reply: "Love is like the wind. You, can't see it, but you can feel it." (REALLY?!)

Dads reply: "Love is like home. You,  always know where you are when you return." (much more heartfelt, I guess)

My mom jokes that I fall in love every time I go out in public.

But I just fall in love with the presence of certain people. The energy a person can bring, that can change the whole dynamic in a room.  And I take notes diligently, I do. As if there were a manilla envelope in my brain labeled "little things i've noticed, and decided I love about you"  and it is always spilling out the top.

"In some ways I love everything. Cause it's less..  less of a 'thing' than like. Less distinct. Less particular. I like things that I like, but I love everything. There's more choice in like. Because even the worst things have things to love in them. I love things so much I feel like I can float away." 

Anyways...   I'll let this cheesy Stevie Wonder take it from here