If we wanted to, we could love with our entire beings.

Love like listening to the same song over and over again,
Eventually discovering other songs, but then returning to that old song you use to love and remembering why you did.

Love like getting enough sleep,
Waking up with energy even though your mind kept you up all night with the thoughts you pushed away during the day.

Love like talking to someone every single day,
Still anticipating the next time you get to see them.

Love like writing with a really good pen,
The weight in between your fingers while the letters tumble to the page to make words and phrases and impressions.

Love like having the window open during a storm,
Retreating to a worn quilt where the cold and wet can't get, but the sounds and smells can.

Love like never growing up,
Having the joy and wonder and emotions and honesty of a child, and getting really good at just pretending to be an adult.