What is Love?


I feel like he is in me and I am in him. Where I am he is also. We have two different bodies but they are not separated. They are joined, intertwined in a way unseen by the naked eye. 

I wrote these thoughts about José in our AC period, "after the curb." You see, I thwarted José's advances when we initially met in 2003. I kicked him to the curb, as he would later describe in a poem. It wasn't until we met again in 2005 that I began to open up to getting to know him, to letting him into my life. By 2007, I discovered what love was, what being in love with José felt like, and this is what I wrote in my journal at that time.

We feel each other without touching, so when we touch it’s like returning to where we once began, where our lives began, like coming home again, like being held in my mother’s arms again. Being touched and held by you is where I relax and begin a new: a new me, a new breath, a new beginning. When you touch me, I feel your love enter my body. Love travels through your hands and arms and permeates my skin, my flesh, my veins, and warms my body, and I become warm from the outside in. Your touch makes me unafraid, calm, serene, and relax.


So, what is love?

Love is when choosing to be together comes first 
and the location second.
 
Love is choosing to be happy and choosing you 
to share my happiness with.
 
Love is getting to know things about you that are private 
and cherishing them as if they were mine.
 
Love is having to say I’m sorry… when I realize I’ve mistreated you, 
taken you for granted or fussed too much.  
Love is trying not to do these things, but quickly apologizing 
once I realize that I have.
 
Love is taking the lead sometimes and giving my best for us.
 
Love is not rushing to lead all the time, but willing to follow, 
trusting your lead, without a lot of questions.
 
Love is gently scratching your back and rubbing your head 
because I know you like it.
 
Love is massaging and moisterizing your feet 

because I know they need it.

 

Love is proudly and admiringly watching you enter a room 
and fill it with your warm presence.
 
Love is laughing with you and not at you…unless
it’s really, really funny ….and eventually 
you laugh too.
 

Love is you.

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