Thursday, 25 March 2010


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. This 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 way, 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 not two.

Thomas sent me this a few weeks ago, The best thing I've read in a very long time.

P.S - I am too tired to continue playing silly games, therefore i give up and you win the internet war.

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