One little o.
One little v.
And one lonely e.
I love pancakes.
I love my home.
I love my family and (some of) my friends.
I'm not in love.
On cold nights I sleep under a mound of pillows and on steamy afternoons I laze about with men of fiction who cannot hurt me.
Love, in all forms can batter the heart. When its any other than being in love we bounce back easier. It still hurts when your best friend isn't there anymore but in a way its alright.
Is it maybe because we know that family and friends will always love us, with flaws?
To be in love is to give wholly and take completely. I hope when my time comes I can do that and not fear the end. Because, when that person leaves they take something we struggle to get back.
Till then, I'm lonely e.