An Analogy on Love

I’m sitting here trying to come up with something to write about and yet I can’t help but think of anything other than the man that I’m falling in love with. That may be because of the sappy music playing on my laptop or the dozen red roses sitting on the table next to me. Roses that were sent just because he felt bad he couldn’t be here when I was sick. Mind you I’m not in the hospital; I don’t even have a fever, just the sniffles and a cough.
I just can’t believe that I’m this blessed. I’ve dreamed of love for so long but was so sure that by the time I found it, it would be ridiculously disappointing; like waiting for a movie for months, buying tickets for the midnight showing and then at 2 o’clock in the morning kicking yourself because you could have been in bed instead of wasting your time watching crappy acting and a predictable plot. But there is no more anticipating love, I’m in it. I’m in the theater. I’m completely invested (I mean large popcorn, soda, and a bag of Skittles) and the best thing is, it’s better than I could have ever imagined. No preview could have done this justice. There have been a few disappointing scenes but for the most part I’ve been on the edge of my seat. Excitement and terror exist within me simultaneously as we work our way to the final credits, which I hope won’t run until my last breath escapes me.