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Strawberry Diaries is where lovers can share everything. Anything and everything about your relationship that you would like to keep totally secret can be posted here. Strawberry Diaries will also answer any questions and give advice on any aspect of love that you can not figure out on your own. This is a tell all site, and we encourage participation. Open your minds and your hearts. This is something that we all need as lovers. Post your questions as letters, tell us everything and we will do our best to help.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

I'm Not A Smart Man, But I know What Love Is..

Is that true for everyone? Knowing what love is? I don't believe that and we are here to learn. We are going to share our ideas and experience with love, we are going to begin to understand the requirements of being loved and giving love. The major confusion with knowing what love is that people actually think they know. Yes, you can say "Oh I do know what love is, I'm in it." I live this everyday. As I wake up in the morning and see my "other half" sleeping with the sunlight peer through a crack in the shades and stretch across her body, I have that sense of joy and happiness. She creates changes within my being and gives me a better understanding about myself. Am I in love? I think I am, but maybe we as human beings are addicted to the emotions that love is supposed to provide. The infatuation with the idea of being in love with someone is enough to trick you into thinking that you are actually in love. I'm not writing this to dog out love or the emotions that happily accompany it. I just want a better understanding of the emotion and the concept. My heart throbs whenever she enters the room, I go through my day missing her, I go to sleep dreaming of her and I wake up loving her. She is my inspiration, my motivation and my endearing pleasure. I love her, at least I think I do.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. ("Anais Nin")

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