love?

Discussion in 'Coming Out and Confused!' started by wadaler, Nov 20, 2005.

  1. wadaler

    wadaler Member

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    I liked some guys, i did have very strong feelings for a couple of them. How do you guys distinguish between "like" and "love"? One of my friend said to me that love wasnt easy and he didnt belive in "1st sight love". Anyway, can anyone tell me how love is like? how do you u know u r in love?
     
  2. SageDreamer

    SageDreamer Senior Member

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    When you fall in love, the whole world looks different. You can't stop thinking about the one you love. Colors seem brighter, food tastes better and music sounds better. It's much easier to recognize than describe.

    It's easier to distinguish between "like" and "love." You like somebody because of things, and you love somebody in spite of certain things. You like him because he's good looking, because he's talented, because he has a wonderful smile. You love him in spite of the fact that he snores, in spite of his tendency to interrupt you, in spite of the way he can never remember your sister's name.
     
  3. TheMistress

    TheMistress Senior Member

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    you want to make the person you love as happy as you are, and are willing to do anything for thier well-being. I think that love is best described in this poem called "somewhere I have never travelled" by ee commings... look it over and analyze it...this is love:

    somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
    any experience,your eyes have their silence:
    in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
    or which i cannot touch because they are too near

    your slightest look will easily unclose me
    though i have closed myself as fingers,
    you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
    (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

    or if your wish be to close me, i and
    my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
    as when the heart of this flower imagines
    the snow carefully everywhere descending;
    nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
    the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
    compels me with the color of its countries,
    rendering death and forever with each breathing

    (i do not know what it is about you that closes
    and opens;only something in me understands
    the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
    nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
     
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