It’s in my heart, it’s in my soul, I am losing my control...

I’ve come no closer to what the concept of love means. As far as I can see, when you don’t have it, you long for it; when you think you have it, you’re not sure if it is It; when it looks like it’s about to slip away, you’re bound to do everything to hang on.

But what is it?

If you ask me what i feel like to be in love…and the most convincing answer I can give is I am in love.

But of course, there have been countless times when the question has came into my mind against my thoughts, like a headache that refuses to go away no matter how many painkillers i take.

Love is idealized… it’s meant to be perfect and passionate and irresistible and predictable. Or so we’re taught to believe by every representation of it that we’re exposed to. But what we seem to neglect is the kind of realistic, everyday love that we see around is, in the lives of people we know, rather than uncommonly good-looking movie stars who’re just acting a part anyway.

Ideal love is good. It’s something I desire, along with about half the world. But does it exist? Yes I think so.

Real love, on the other hand, is real tough. It isn’t always about the flowers and candle-lit dinners and the little romantic gestures. It isn’t always there or always beautiful and passionate and perfect. There are times when you wish you weren’t in love and times you feel crushingly lonely.

But then there are those times when just knowing that there’s one person in the world who cares, who will listen, who will be there, who wants you for you - well, I suppose it just makes up for everything else that isn’t there.