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I believe I have discovered what the difference of loving someone and being in love with them is. I have discovered what being in love with the idea of love is, and how it differs from actually being in love with someone. I have discovered how the idea of being in love can cloud your judgement, can complicate your reality and can cause you to lose sleep at night. I have discovered that love is not fighting. Love is not war. Love is not tears, unless they are tears of joy. Love is flaws. Love is morning breath. Love is despiting absolutely anything. Love is eyes. Love is a sweet fire, soothing and absolute. Love is peeing with the bathroom door open, just to know that person is in the other room waiting for you to climb back into bed. Love is an infinite comfort. Love is therapeutic. Love is wanting to be beside someone, just to cherish their being. Love is the feeling of smiling from your toes to your face. Love is being with somebody else, yet knowing the person you are meant to be with is not them. Love is wanting to experience things together. Love is the thought of the first person you want to tell when you accomplish your dreams. Love is when words match actions. Love is thinking of memories when you smell a certain cologne. Love is music and art. Love is when you believe your soul has been matched. Love is being able to make mistakes and work through them. Love is time. Love is growth. Love is moments of clarity. Love is dance. Love is an indescribable, unimaginable mix of things. Love is mysteriously exciting. Love is remembering. Love is the ability to be happy for somebody else.

I have realized that you never loved me the way i loved you.

and now you can't sleep at night knowing i don't love you anymore.

thank god i don't.

the fire of possibility.

His stares filled with a hunger so blatant
the path his eyes travel as she walks into the room
The bite of her lip and the fiddle of her hands
smirks and rushes and desires
the yearn to get out of the bar and indulge in each others mouths
the heat between them as he gazes at her lips, down to her hips and back up again
the thought of what could possibly be
the continuation of what was once a random night
the evolving of words, with each encounter
the alcohol in his taste, the nicotine on her tongue
eyes squinting in sex appeal, the slow yet inviting chew of her gum
lyrics blasting louder than the racing thoughts in their minds
the distinct routine, the words every night
the way that wrong feels
the dismissive shrugs when someone questions
the thrill of the tease
the intertwine of our legs
the bite marks on my toned shoulders
the way it gets me every time without fail
the bashful feeling of embarrassment, the "love" of secrecy
the power you hold of mine
the rotation of our dance

you are in my four corners. it's inevitable. you do something to me.