WHAT IS LOVE ?
Author Unknown
Love is a slow kiss goodnight.
It's anticipation.
Love is flirting outrageously and still remembering that
the person at your side is not obligated to do anything.
It's respect.
Love is an imperfection in yourself not bothering you.
It's acceptance.
Love is passing up an opportunity because the time isn't
right yet.
It's patience.
Love is a back massage that starts above the hairline and
ends around the insoles.
It's exploration.
Love is not having to say "Let's make love," because you
know what the other person wants.
It's understanding.
Love is being given an honest chance to say no when you thought
you were committed.
It's consideration.
Love is both of you remembering protection.
It's responsibility.
Love is saying the perfect phrase to make a solemn embrace
dissolve into giggles.
It's humour.
Love is being told "Stop and I'll kill you".
It's desire.
Love is reviewing the damage to your living room and realizing
personal effects are strewn in a clockwise pattern from the front door
to the bedroom.
It's abandonment.
Love is seeing what your lover really looks like for the
first time.
It's truth.
Love is knowing what time it is and not caring.
It's joy.
Love is the arms around you tightening their embrace.
It's ecstasy.
Love is seeing a new side of a person you thought you knew.
It's renewal.
Love is telling a person if you have to leave, you will let
them sleep, and being told they would rather be woken.
It's tenderness.
Love is waking up to find the subject of the dream you were
having asleep on your shoulder.
It's where fantasy meets reality.
Love is being there to wake your lover. Slowly.
It's sensuousness.
Love is belatedly knowing why you bothered to buy a queen-sized
bed three years ago.
It's practicality.
Love is two people only taking up a third of a queen-sized
bed.
It's closeness.
Love is knowing you gave the extra set of keys to your apartment
to the right person.
It's trust.
Love is saying good-bye and knowing you will be back by mutual
consent.
It's faith.
Love is stretching your arms and discovering the real meaning
of the word "sore".
It's a lesson in human frailty.
Love is opening your medicine cabinet and finding your tube
of toothpaste turned into a pretzel.
It's adaptation.
Love is sitting at the window, looking out and remembering
who you were with the night before.
It's reflection.
Love is hearing the weather forecast for a winter storm and
wishing you could spend it in bed with your lover.
It's loneliness.
Love is stories that will never be told.
It's personal.