Sunday, June 24, 2007

It's scary when you wake up one day only to find yourself asking, " Am in love with him or in love with love itself?"

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two. - Captain Corelli's Mandolin


*T* said...

hey chinky mae!

i used to drop by here.

glad to know you are currently in a blogging mode.

tienelyn mae

littlerascal said...

hi tien! sorry mah friend. i think i haven't linked you up yet. i dunno how. hehe. my friend does it for me. miss ya!