200611

A friend wrote an essay about the weather and the INALity it induces. She called it What I Talk About When I Talk About Love is Nothing.

After reading it, I looked back on the latter half of the past year (how I yearned to have someone to snuggle up to on rainy days) and the first half of the present year. I almost gave up on this. Or would you be more appropriate?

I almost gave up on you.

But I didn't. Or, to be more precise, I couldn't.

What I talk about when I talk about love, these days, is not nothing.

What I talk about when I talk about love is you.