Many people have many views about love and when it comes right down to it, they are all practically the same or leads to the same thing. This is just a little something to ponder on about love.
What is love? When we claim that it`s love that we have for someone, are we correct?
Something to ponder upon.....
Are your palms sweaty, is your heart racing and is your voice caught within your chest? It isn`t love, it`s like.
You can`t keep your eyes or hands off of them, am I right? It isn`t love, it`s lust.
Are you proud, and eager to show them off? It isn`t love, it`s luck.
Do you want them because you know they`re there? It isn`t love, it`s loneliness.
Are you there because it`s what everyone wants? It isn`t love, it`s loyalty.
Are you there because they kissed you, or held your hand? It isn`t love, it`s low confidence.
Do you stay for their confessions of love, because you don`t want to hurt them? It isn`t love, it`s pity.
Do you belong to them because their sight makes your heart skip a beat? It isn`t love, it`s infatuation.
Do you pardon their faults because you care about them? It isn`t love, it`s friendship.
Do you tell them every day they are the only one you think of? It isn`t love, it`s a lie.
Are you willing to give all of your favorite things for their sake? It isn`t love, it`s charity.
Does your heart ache and break when they`re sad? Then it`s love.
Do you cry for their pain, even when they`re strong? Then it`s love.
Do their eyes see your true heart, and touch your soul so deeply it hurts? Then it`s love.
Do you stay because a blinding, incomprehensible mix of pain and relation pulls you close and holds you there? Then it`s love.
Do you accept their faults because they`re a part of who they are? Then it`s love.
Are you attracted to others, but stay with them faithfully without regret? Then it`s love.
Would you allow them to leave you , not because they want to but because they have to? Then its love.
Would you give them your heart, your life, your death?When it`s love.
Now, if love is painful, and tortures us so, why do we love? Why is it all we search for in life? This pain, this agony? Why is it all we long for? This torture, this powerful death of self? Why? The answer is so simple cause it`s...LOVE. It is such an addictive that even people who are not having it wish to experience and share it with.
Back to Top
.::[[Q U O T E S]]::.
� I guarantee there will be tough times. I guarantee there will be one day or when one or both of us would want toget out. But I also guarantee that if I do not ask you to be mine, I`ll regret it for the rest of my because I know in my Heart, you`re the onlyone. From: Runaway Bride
� "If you love someone, you say it, say it right then and there, out
loud, otherwise the moment just passes you by." From: My Bestfriend`s Wedding
� "Love is like the water of sea
always flowin`, movin` free
it doesn`t always make you feel
how you wish it did
Sometimes, love is gone with the wind
it can happen as fast as fire
your heart can fill with warmth
and desire
One day you can link your eyes,
and the love you once felt so strong
now dies." From: Gone with the Wind
Back to Top
���`�.(�.��(�.�* *�.�)`�.�).��`��
this thing called love
you know when it happens, you know when it`s right
your breath stops in an instant
and your heart takes flight
there is no one description, to tell how you feel
the only thing you can think of, is the fact that it`s real
it makes you feel, like nothing else
you no longer think of only yourself
it`s the one thing in life, you`ve been waiting for
with the warmest touch, you yearn for more
it`s something so special, something so grand
something that gives, without a demand
you widh upon the stars at night
whenthe feelings you have, to reach great heights
then you give and receive this gift
you`ll get down on your knees
and thank the heavens above
for you discovered this thing called "love"
Back to Top
| Now this is an e-mail that my sister received from her friend. It is very heartwarming. It will bring tears in your eyes and make you realize of the the possibility that is out there. Very touchy, so make sure that you have kleenex on hand before you proceed. Enjoy!!
Red roses were her favorites,
her name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent them,
tied with pretty bows.
The year he died,
the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, "Be my Valentine,"
like all the years before.
Each year he sent her roses,
and the note would always say,
"I love you even more this year,
than last year on this day.
My love for you will always grow,
with every passing year."
She knew this was the last time
that the roses would appear.
She thought, he ordered roses
in advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know,
that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early,
way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy,
everything would work out fine.
She trimmed the stems,
and placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase
beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours,
in her husband's favorite chair.
While staring at his picture,
and the roses sitting there.
A year went by,
and it was hard to live without her mate.
With loneliness and solitude,
that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour,
as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang, and there were roses,
sitting by her door.
She brought the roses in,
and then just looked at them in shock.
Then, went to get the telephone,
to call the florist shop.
and she asked him, if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her,
causing her such pain?
"I know your husband passed away,
more than a year ago,"
The owner said, "I knew you'd call,
and you would want to know.
The flowers you received today,
were paid for in advance.
Your husband always planned ahead,
he left nothing to chance.
There is a standing order,
that I have on file down here,
And he has paid, well in advance,
you'll get them every year.
There also is another thing,
that I think you should know,
He wrote a special little card
..he did this years ago.
Then, should ever I find out
that he's no longer here,
That's the card...that should be sent,
to you the following year."
Next
|
She thanked him and hung up the phone,
her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly
reached to get the card.
Inside the card, she saw
that he had written her a note.
Then, as she stared in total silence,
this is what he wrote...
"Hello my love, I know it's been
a year since I've been gone,
I hope it hasn't been too hard
for you to overcome.
I know it must be lonely,
and the pain is very real.
Or if it was the other way,
I know how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything
so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can say,
you were the perfect wife.
You were my friend and lover,
you fulfilled my every need.
I know it's only been a year,
but please try not to grieve
I want you to be happy,
even when you shed your tears.
That is why the roses will be
sent to you for years.
When you get these roses,
think of all the happiness,
That we had together,
and how both of us were blessed.
I have always loved you
and I know I always will.
But, my love, you must go on,
you have some living still.
Please...try to find happiness,
while living out your days.
I know it is not easy,
but I hope you find some ways.
The roses will come every year,
and they will only stop,
When your door's not answered,
when the florist stops to knock.
He will come five times that day,
in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit,
he will know without a doubt
To take the roses to the place,
where I've instructed him.
And place the roses where we are,
together once again.
Sometimes in life, you find a special friend;
Someone who changes your life just by being part of it.
Someone who makes you laugh until you can't stop;
Someone who makes you believe that there really is good in the world.
Someone who convinces you that there really is an unlocked door just waiting for you to open it.
This is Forever Friendship.
This is the sacred RED ROSE. |
Back to Top
� I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet whenever our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.
|
