love | ramblings



We used to kiss on red lights.

Every set of two will have a little quirk, ours was kissing whenever we were stopped at a red traffic light. Looking back, most of the memories are sour, but this one is sweet. Even though our story is often tainted by the lows, there are still some memories that are worth sharing.
So, it was an unspoken agreement, whenever at a red light, we would kiss. Whether we were in the middle of an argument or in pure bliss, we would would always share a peck. It was worth something. It still is.

My mother still laughs at my dad’s old jokes. They’ve been married for over 25 years, and he will recycle his jokes every once in a while – even I have heard them over a thousand times now – still, every time, she’ll laugh like it’s the first time she hearing them. It’s endearing. I wonder if she’s laughing with him, for him or out of love. Maybe it’s all three combined. My mother is the most beautiful when she’s laughing at my father’s jokes.

I think love is made out of little things. I say think, because my understanding of it is quite limited. I’m not the best at spotting it either. I used to think love was meant to be easy. If it wasn’t, it couldn’t be love. If it wasn’t easy, I didn’t want it. I’ve changed my mind a bit on that, it does require some effort to work out, but you’re never supposed to try to love someone.

I think love is meant to be this organic feeling that comes to you easily. You barely notice it coming up to you. When you see it, it has already been there for a while. It will lodge itself in your heart, snuggle up with your thoughts and once you notice it, it’s too late already. You’ll find yourself in love without having to try. It’s all fun and games at first. The real trouble begins when the feeling stays with you.

I never looked at love as this sequence of grand gestures. I’ve always believed it was about the little things, like someone waking up earlier to prepare your coffee; driving out of their way to get your favorite pastry and cooking your favourite meal even after a long day. These are just some examples, I understand it sounds that somehow I believe that love is related to someone feeding you. It’s not just that, obviously. But it is about the little things. You see it on the daily efforts not on occasional actions. No matter how big the gesture is, buying a chocolate everyday is worth more than getting a box once in a while.

I’m always looking for the smallest signals. Whenever involved with someone I will always ask myself the same question. You see, I like my sleep and I like waking up without an alarm. Getting out of the bed in the morning is one of the most difficult tasks I do daily. Would I be willing to wake up everyday 30 minutes earlier to prepare breakfast for this boy? It’s a big effort. If I was to do it out of obligation I would get very cranky and eventually resent the poor thing for it. So far, whenever it was time to ask myself that question, the answer has always been negative. So, no luck so far. But I do have hope in the fact that someday I will be willing to wake up early for someone and be in a good enough mood to prepare some pancakes and coffee.

There’s still time to find that someone. I’ll panic when I’m thirty.

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