You Are In Love.

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*This has been sitting in my drafts for over 80 days and I needed to post it because it was bothering me just sitting there with all of the unsaid words*

I think for many of us there comes a time when we realize we are in love. Maybe not everybody thinks this way but I think for a lot of people, there’s a certain point where you realize “holy shit I’m in love”. It’s weird.

Love is crazy and it can really chew you up and spit you right back out if you aren’t careful. But unfortunately, I think the “safe” love is often the most boring kind of love. Sometimes the best love comes from circumstances that are unusual. Sometimes the most intense and pure love is from something that’s the most unexpected. I think the best love often comes from someone we don’t really see ourselves with, or the people we try to push away but they keep coming back. Sometimes it happens to be the people you once thought were annoying and wanted nothing to do with…until you finally meet them.

For me, I think I really realized I was in love was when I booked a plane ticket a few short hours before the plane left. If any of you know me, you know that I’m not crazy adventurous and I like to do what I know and stick to that. I don’t typically do the unexpected. Except for that day. But even then I hadn’t realized I was in love. I didn’t realized it until I was listening to my music on the plane, when You Are In Love (by the one and only T. Swift because who else would I really be listening to) came on. I didn’t think anything of it until the song ended and I had to keep playing it over and over until it really hit me. I realized that I felt so in love. I realized in that moment that I don’t want to let go of what I have until I absolutely have to. I knew that what I was feeling was so valid at that moment.

Sometimes the best kind of love happens to be when the circumstances aren’t the most ideal. It’s when you realize you can’t run to that person. You can’t call them or talk to them because theres a 6 hour time difference. You can’t talk to them because quite frankly, they don’t know if they are coming back. It’s the nights where all you want to do is talk to that person but you can’t.  Wondering if you’re ever going to see them again. My mom claims that I’m too picky and too selective but that’s only because they aren’t you.

 

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