“That’s because you’re madly in love with him!” he said for the third or fourth time in the last three hours we spent together.
I smacked his arm with the book I had in my hand. “I’m not,” I said, “at least not anymore… or at least I don’t think I am. I don’t know, it’s just different…”
“Different how?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t know… like, I don’t feel attracted to him physically… well, I wouldn’t mind kissing him, but that’s it… and yet… Gosh, I don’t know.”
“Physical attractions are common, but a mental connection is rare.” — Unknown
Maybe I am madly in love with you, on a deeper level than infatuation, a level where there’s no such thing as lust, but only love. The kind of love that makes me want to spend every possible moment with you, just to be, and nothing more. The kind of love that makes me worry about you, care about you, wanting to make sure everything is right in your life. The kind of love that makes it possible to have a conversation by simply looking into each others eyes and knowing exactly what the other wants to say. The kind of love that… is just the way I feel about you.