Nothing to Write but Love Again

Sometimes I wonder if loving you makes even the teeniest sense.  Then, wondering causes me to weigh the logic of the circumstances and I realize, what kind of a stupid barnacle would fall in love with a weird looking guy like you?  I mean, really, you’re not the hottest guy in school; you’re not half as smart (or good-looking) as one of the guys I’ve almost fallen for (read: almost); you’re not even a Jose Rizal!  Why then, in the name of Obi-Wan-Kenobi, am I so damn in love with you, still, after all these darn years?  Logic…logic has no place in the realm of love and hearts.  Therefore, weighing the logic of the circumstances is totally wrong.  So I think further…deeper…

THEN, I realize, I don’t have to go deeper, because it’s right before my eyes.  I have no reason for loving you, because love does not ask for reasons, it simply happens.  Like that Ally McBeal commercial, when she gets hit with arrows, the reason for that dream sequence is different, yet, I believe the effect is the same.  That’s love…that’s how it happens.  I know because I felt it…with you.

I must be crazy, really crazy for doing this, for just saying this things.  Gosh…what have you done to me?

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