Classical Thing I Called Love

There's something different about my Saturday nights out.
Something makes me realize that no one can reach something perfect, like perfect-perfect.
What the hell I'm talking about?

My life. My love. My love-life.

There's something mysterious and magical about love that sometimes we don't know, we don't realize, or maybe we don't wanna know.
Love.
L-O-V-E. Love.
Love spreading anywhere. Lover, family, neighborhood, school, supermarket, road, air.. Every second, every step we take, we breathe with about 98,675% love, and about 1,325% is a natural things that maybe we call it oxygen, and blablabla. And for the heart breaker, every step and every second we take, we breathe with about 99% hates, self-hates, self-disorder, and about 1% is an oxygen etc.

Love is a tiny thing that can change a big thing in whole life.
Simple but complicated.
Giving but expect.
Natural but motivated.
Care but don't care.
Sensitive but rude.

Sometimes we expect a perfection with our lover. We won't them to know well about us, to understand us, to do whatever we want, to be whoever we want. But we forgot one thing, essential thing:
To feel what love is it, we don't need someone perfect. Just love them perfectly, and we'll know what love is it, and how sweet is it.

Sometimes love spreading anywhere without knows anything. Loving someone, caring someone, is just a way to know more about love. Love's doesn't knows time, and place. Ugly or good. Bad or best.
It's just love.

Love doesn't need a confessions. If we love someone (although they don't love us), we just know that we love them. No more. Bitter or sweet, we just love them.

From that night, I learn one thing about love:
Love's just unbelievable. Because we never know how does it works.

Love is in the air..