Eavesdropper: Prologue

Love is strange. That’s an accepted fact. It’s twisted and tangled into impossible knots. It’s the sun that shines bright in the day, and the stars that guide your path at night. It’s the heart that thunders in your chest, and it’s the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. It’s the dozen phone calls, and it’s the constant worrying and it’s the comfort and the fights and all the other million things that love encompasses.

Love has no boundaries, it’s limitless. Love is the simple four letter word that holds so much meaning and depth. It has every teenager day-dreaming about it, and every senile man reminiscing. It ties the memories with a satin thread; it binds people with spun silk.

Love is blind. It’s impaired, and it’s perfect at the same time. It’s beyond explanations. Love is a dream come true. It’s unexpected.

I know all this. I know and accept all this. In fact, I’ve experienced the weeping and the screaming and the late-night calling and the hand-holding and the hugs that sweep me off my feet, the whole package- really.

Which is why I’m telling you that this whole love business ? It’s overrated.

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