This is love in the words of St. Augustine of Hippo.
"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 conceive 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 are one tree and not two."
During my hour-long flight back home from Makati last week, I was going through my handy-dandy blank book, which I have been carrying around everyday since April of last year, and stumbled upon this beautiful definition of love attributable to St. Augustine of Hippo which I had copied down sometime in May this year.
I love the truthfulness of it, the way it makes love sound selfless and reassuring, and not something made out of "mid-sweet talk and newspaper word cut-outs". When I picture love in my mind, I always see it as something like these:
I am such a sucker of photos with old couples! They remind me so much of my Mama and Papa, who are one of the cutest couples I know.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away.
Yes, tell me about it. :)