Anxiety issues have had me sleeping very little, and tonight is a prime example. An internet friend just asked how to know if you know if you’re in love or not, and I sort of liked my response to the question, at least enough to throw it up here too. So allow me to step up on my ill deserved pulpit and preach for a moment.
I said that it’s like the old Supreme Court case on obscenity. You know it when you see it. But with love, you can’t avoid it.
But it’s more than that. More likely, with love, you WANT to avoid it. It’s like a pimple before an important presentation. “Not now! I’m not ready. I’m not safe. Fuck you, love.”
Even in the safest of emotional playgrounds, love is a surprise scraped knee. The sand gets in there and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But at the same time it’s wonderful. It’s fucking wonderful. It hurts, enthralls and elates all in one punch to the groin.
How do you know if you’re in love? You know. You wish it weren’t so. Because it’s so powerful that it’s ALL that you know.
And that’s what makes it beautiful.
