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My latest of findings...
Love isn't familiarity bred; it isn't a rosebush, cut and pruned beyond recognition...
Those who have never gotten drunk, well, they have this preconceived notion of that very state... and this, more often than not, is far from what is in actual. It is far from what creeps in our imagination.
We quest for beauty, but never realize what beauty is. We try to find it in the glitter off a sequin or in the colors and fabrics...; but beauty more likely would lie in that twinkle in the eye; in that spit bubble of a baby; in the laughing gurgle of a brook...
We tend to bypass what is so obvious for what we think is obvious. We get conditioned to expect certain things in life, and often that is not what happens in reality.
When we get hit by love, it is not what the films depict, nor the love songs... for what they talk about is but the tiniest fraction of what it is. Love takes us by storm, not in the sense that everything happens more quickly, just that nothing is the same ever again. The moment it happens, world goes topsy turvy, or maybe you go topsy turvy... Ah! as I said, nothing is ever the same...
Love is the total unpredictability of predictability, if you get what I mean; it is a grape vine that goes all wild and just as it should be... Love is you and me...