only one word for it

Every Sunday I check postsecret. I know it's. . . what's the word. . . voyeuristic? but I like reading what other people are keeping hidden. Sometimes the secrets come across as fabricated, but that just gives you an opportunity to consider what that person is really keeping secret.

I checked today and found card after card about love. Which is to be expected. Stupid pagan holiday. But I still read the cards and enjoyed some of them, including the card adorning this post. (Story of my life. I have all the books I need. Give me your soul, please. I'm not picky about condition.)

Love has been on the brain lately. Not just my brain--everyone's. Maybe this is how it is all the time and not just this time of year, but good night. It's taking over conversation, classroom, movie, and worst of all, my poetry. I've resigned myself to living in a lovesick world.

I know this isn't a new concept, but tonight my friend was talking about how there is only one word--love--for so many emotions: ice cream love, movie love, sister love, boy love, God love. They're all different. I love one person differently than I love another. I'll tell you that I love someone, but I would never tell that person.

It's difficult to find yourself loving someone and knowing that they won't love you. It's painful to think that you were "in love" with someone without really loving them. And that wasn't cryptic at all.

And now Rach is here, so I'm not going to explain myself. You'll just have to wait for part two.