Sorting Through the Clutter
If you somehow were able to unearth my diary amidst the clutter of my room, then you would probably find something like this...


Monday, November 14, 2005  

It's interesting. Love, that is.

It starts off as this floating-on-cloud-nine experience. Nothing can go wrong. And if it does, it's not really wrong. Everything sparkles and the air always smells like honey and vanilla. There are no such things as arguments, or tears, or furrowed brows. Goosebumps at every brush of the fingers, butterflies at the very sight of them, toothy grins that creep across your face when they creep into your thoughts.

That is one of my favourite parts of love. Though unfortunately it is not the real part of it. I guess I can't even call this part love. It's just infatuation.

Then somewhere along the way, it grows and matures into something real. You know, real love - ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love - the kind that Carrie speaks of. And even though this kind can hurt more, it can also bring so much more happiness than the vanilla-scented, sparkly, fleeting kind.

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posted by Jenn | 1:03 PM |
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//jenn
//mcmaster university alumni
//laughs at corny jokes
//frowns at rude drivers
//lover of life, vintage clothing, and african daisies
//hater of ignorance, apathy, and spiders

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