What is love...

*love* is a temporary madness.

it erupts like an earthquake and then subsides.

and when it subsides you have to make a decision.

you have to work out whether your roots have become

so entwined together that it is inconceivable

that you should ever part.

because this is what love is.

*love* is not breathlessness.

it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation

{def. - to publish or make known}

of promises of eternal passion.

that is just being "in love" which any of us

can convince ourselves we are.

love itself is what is leftover when being in love

has burned away , and this is both an art and a

fortunate accident. your mother and i had it,

we had roots that grew towards each other underground,

and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches

we found that we were one tree and not two".

-St. Augustine

blessings~