I think.

They were the loveliest days. I wish it could last our lifetimes.


I have a doubtful idea of what this feeling is, but I don't know. I like to think it as 'quite severe infatuation'... which is rather synonymous to 'love'. I'm wary about 'love', though.

[description\\love]
I. There is no way of telling, at least not at this stage. We're still an infant. Five months old. Whatever we feel for each other might run out of gas soon. I wish it could last our lifetimes. But with 'love', you never know.

II. It's inexplicable. Humans are too complicated for their own good. We love, and it's the most wonderful thing in the world, except that it can break your psychology as fast as it had built it.

Be it love or infatuation, I'm expressing it with tears right now.

Does love hurt? Should it? Should it not? Maybe the constriction in my chest that builds up each time I sob and fresh tears gushing out of my puffed eyes likes waterfalls are a good thing. It's a result of me yearning for you. Missing you. Because I love you...?

Love is a risk. You take it and you either burn or run off with the most wonderful thing in the world. Right now, I'm taking the risk, but as of the verdict, it's too soon.

It's masochistic. It is because of the complications and doubts and heartaches that I'm happy. I'm happy because I hurt every time you're not around. I'm happy because every time I cry, it's on an empty bed. I'm happy because when we're together, you make the pain turn into something pleasant. Comforting. Beautiful.

I'm happy it's because of you I'm going through all this.

I can only imagine you to be happy as well, but in your own interpretation of happiness. I'm weird. I can distort the most normal thing.

There is no conclusion to this because I still don't know if this is love or not. But I'm more than willing to find out.

Maybe until then, I won't say I love you. Because it might be a lie.

Or maybe I will, because I might have been in love without knowing it. Until now.