Thursday, February 14, 2013

Ahh, l'amour, l'amour doux ... Ahh, Love, sweet love...

It's pouring with rain here today, as I sit quietly tapping the keys and enjoying the sound of it coming down on the skylights overhead. It's been awhile since it really rained hard and the water looked so mesmerizing hitting the pool, that I was tempted to strip and dive in.

I find myself with a silly smile plastered over my face after a lovely lunch with my eldest son Cheyne and MDH (MyDarlingHusband). We went to a favored little Italian restaurant up the road from us and 'romanza' was definitely in the air..

Couples, young and older, flower peddlers, the happy, the hopeful, the people...were out in force, even on a day like today, to celebrate Love. And Love sweet love was in the air. After our meal, we called in at the grocery store before heading home and I stopped dead in my tracks, just inside the door. Again felt that smile tug, and just had to comment as a line of men, again, young and old, stood before the racks of cards, earnestly searching for the words to tell the keeper of their hearts. To remind that special someone, just how important they were.

I loved being in love.
So full of the flush and wonder of wearing a lover beneath ones skin, that they lingered like a teasing caress. Always with you. Feeling like you had a perfectly passionate secret that no one else on earth could possibly understand. Unless of course, they too were head over heels for someone.
Young love was head strong and almost myopic, as so caught up in the euphoria of it all I truly thought that if I ever lost his heart, I'd simply shrivel up and die. Like some sort of tragic character out of an equally tragic tale of love lost and found and lost again.

Maybe it has to be like that, or no one would actually get married and tie themselves to one person forever and a day and agree to all the children, diapers, worry and bills. And all the other stresses and things that come with becoming a grown up...and leaving childish things behind.

But love, real love is something that grows and matures like a fine wine. That when tested, is never found wanting and still sends a thrill of expectation and wonder through you. It's reliable, dependable and holds fast through sick and sin, the laughter, the tears and fears and the heartaches of life...

Ciao, Isabella

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