To love and feel something...  Is that so wrong? I want wake up the next morning knowing that that's where I'm supposed to be. Knowing that it's where I belong

To me,  love is a feeling of magic. A feeling that is rare that comes every so often.  I do not take that word or feeling lightly, therefore I tread carefully. To love often is not love, but rather an infatuation or a reassurance of self. A justification of some sort.

To love is knowing that you belong there. That you're opening your eyes to your best friend. That your soul is home where their home is.

That to me,  is an extraordinary love.

To love and feel something...  Is that so wrong? I want wake up the next morning knowing that that's where I'm supposed to be. Knowing that it's where I belong

To me,  love is a feeling of magic. A feeling that is rare that comes every so often.  I do not take that would do or feeling lightly, therefore I tried carefully. To love often is not love, but rather an infatuation or a reassurance of self. A justification of some sort.

To love is knowing that you belong there. That you're opening your eyes to your best friend. That your soul is home where their home is.

That to me,  is an extraordinary love.