Is this Love?!

This blog is all about Love! Share this blog and let your significant other know how much you them! click here to read my previous blog KILLING CANCER with Silke.Plehn! (interview of a breast cancer survivor)

Well, here goes nothing!

Every time we said, “Hello,” it felt as though butterflies were cart-wheeling in my stomach I think, Cupid didn’t have an arrow large enough to hold a love this size, so he stole plane and flew it into my chest. And if I was to say that I really, really, really wanted to get to know you would just be an understatement. Me, I want to pour your thoughts in a coffee mug and sip them slow and strong. I want to light candles, and bathe for hours in secrets that you just never had the courage to say out loud already,

As if the only card game we understand how to play is UNO. And if I win, you have to let me fall in love with you. But if I win, all you have to do is let me fall in love with you You see, if I could, if I could, I would sing a song for you.

and before she sleeps it’s like she wraps herself in my memories and she sets the needs of my soul with the melodies of her voice, And even though her beauty consumes me I sit back wondering whether or not I should actually pursue her. And I know what you’re thinking:I’m just some love-sick fool, but tell me, what would you do if you saw the most beautiful flower?I mean even if you don’t like flowers, but you just saw this one flower that took your breath away. I mean a flower so beautiful that a mere glance doesn’t suffice, because it entices you to get closer. What would you do?Would you pick the flower or would you leave it there so that somebody else can see it too?

See, I’m going to be honest, I’m not really a love poet And sometimes my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love takes a little more work than you planned.

All my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless.It’s pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended.

See I’m going to be honest, I’m not a love poet, But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love I swear that my first poem…It would be about you.

I would write about how you were “the most” beautiful woman that I had seen in college.

I would write about how you were appealing to me in every way a guy could imagine.

I would write about how you're extremely talented.

I would write about how I love talking to you and every time I hear your voice, it's like some body playing the harpoon's strings in the heavens. So mature, so soothing.And if your voice was the sound of my alarm clock, I swear, the snooze button of that alarm clock would collect dust over time, just so that I could get to hear your voice for some more time….for some more time.

I would write about how you sometimes make me so happy that I just can't make up words to compliment you.I just can't. Whatever I say would be an understatement.

I would write about how your hair smells like everything's perfect with the world, and your smile feels like the best thing I've seen in an eternity.

I would write about your beautiful sparkling eyes. I still remember when we recently went for a movie, and the theatre was dark, and when the light from the screen fell on your eyes, it complimented you so well. Especially when you were Laughing, and the light fell on your eyes, damn! Never had I seen such beauty before! You turned your head to watch the movie, I turned mine to look at you. I would write about how your eyes are the only Diwali diyas that deserve to shine all year long!

I would write about how the mole right above your lip just adds to your beauty, as if that wasn’t enough!

I would write about how you adjust your hair and play with it when I’m around. You see, I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow, maybe someway you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me.

If I was a love poet I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful Even on days when everything around you is ugly You see, I’d write about your eyelashes and how they are like strings of the veena and play symphonies every time you blink.

You say you’ve got 12 years of experience in playing the veena, that is you started taking veena lessons from the age of 5. I correct you by saying 17 years of experience.

If I was a love poet I’d write about how I melt in front of you like your favourite Oreo Mc Flurry Every time I hear the vibration in your voice, every single moment you spend with me, my heart plays hopscotch inside of my chest…and I feel like a child all over again!

I swear, I’m not a love poet But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love My first poem would be about you. I want to be your ex boyfriend’s stunt man. I want to do everything that he never had the courage to do like… trust you.

You see, I want that… I want that my friends think I’m crazy kind of love. Forget the shallow stuff, I want the deepest kind of love. That I want to stay up and tell you all my secrets kind of love. That every time I see you, I fall to pieces kind of love. I want that stand next to me kind of love. That you are my destiny kind of love. That no matter what happens, you always get the best of me kind of love. That you get my heart and my mind, this world gets the rest of me kind of love. That invest in me kind of love, because you already know that I’m invested in you kind of love. That you come upset, you don’t have to say anything, I already know what to do kind of love.

Pull me close to you, tell me that you love me. I can be everything that you live for. I promise I will love you. I promise I will love you as if it’s the only thing that I’ve ever done correctly.

I want to be the air in your lungs, every time you’re sad, mad or angry, I can remind you to breathe easy. Sometimes, when we fight, I feel that I’m like air….by getting the air knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they love the taste of air….we get back together every single time. It’s like the relationship between a shore and the ocean…no matter how many times the shore pushes away the ocean, the ocean still comes back to the shore.

I want to tell you not to worry about the nay sayers…they’re behind you for a reason. I want to remind you that sometimes, the very people you want to save, are the ones who stand on your superwoman cape, not allowing you to fly. I know you want to help a lot of people, but I want to remind you that no matter how much you stretch the fingers of your small hands, you’ll still not be able to hold all the pain in you. So let go of all that is pulling you down.

See, last night, I had a dream. And in this particular dream, I died in my dreams, woke not knowing I was still sleeping, decided to walk. You see that night, I walked in my sleep, I slept in my walk, I walked backwards until I saw you for the first time, and I could barely muster the courage to introduce myself all over again. You see, I’ve been trying to find the right words. I’ve been trying to take the right steps for what seems to me like thousands of years, but something always seems to go wrong between us. That’s why sometimes, when we hold hands, ever so often, I tend to hold on a little too tight, and I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose you again. My mother told me, when you find the perfect woman, you do whatever it takes to make sure that she’s next to you.

You, you make me feel like I’m worthy of many things. You make me happy at times when I’m low. You care so much for me so much so that I just can’t words to thank you!

You, you’re like a coconut, hard on the outside, tender and sweet on the inside!

When people ask me about my wedding

I never really know what to say But when they ask me about my future wife I always tell them

I tell them If she was a book I would memorize her table of contents I would read her cover-to-cover Hoping to find typos Just so we can both have a few things to work on Because aren’t we all unfinished? Don’t we all need a little editing? Aren’t we all waiting to be proofread by someone? Aren’t we all praying they will tell us that we make sense. She doesn’t always make sense, but her imperfections are the things I love about her the most I don’t know when I will be married I don’t know where I will be married

But I do know this

Whenever I’m asked about my future wife

I always say

…She’s a lot like you.

A lot like you.

…She’s a lot like you. A lot like you.