It’s a funny thing - love. It is one of the few experiences in life that hits every emotion that you can possibly experience. It has multiple connotations that can end a friendly conversation with a hug, create an awkward atmosphere if one person is one emotional date ahead of another, and can fill your stomach with butterflies and fuzzy teddy bears - which seem to be the only adorable references to a light stomach, aside from rollercoasters and highly efficient elevators. Yet, it can also send you into a madness paralleling the reactive mindframe of an angry toddler who got less ice cream for dessert, make you feel as though you’re slowly melting into a puddle of muck, or make you question every aspect of yourself and others. It has the hidden power to do anything and everything. It is an emotion that is both sought after and avoided for almost entirely the same reasons. Yet, as a species, it is the goal of every human - to love. It may be a line stolen from a thousand angsty poems, every Danielle Steele novel, and a plethora of February greeting cards, but love really is the most powerful emotion of all.

It started as a simple gesture as it usually does. So insignificant in that you’d never notice it for yourself. This one simple gesture generated excitement. My cell phone buzzed across the table, begging me to grab for it. I snatched it mid-buzz - not giving it the slightest possibility of considering a second buzz as I was focused on retrieving it as soon as my arm would grasp it. My stomach was twisting and warm. I felt like I had just taken a shot. As I collected my thoughts and my thumbs, I mustered up a response of both educated and flirtatious means. This hypnotizing dance of double entendres and pushing the point as far as it could go without being painfully obvious continued for ages. My head was full of thoughts of whimsy and that feeling you got as a 5 year old on christmas eve, unable to sleep because there was presents awaiting their unveiling and cookies and milk to be devoured. I was waiting every last second to just have the slightest 140 character bit of attention. The excitement to be had in new love is sickeningly beautiful. It is a feeling that is intoxicating and finds it’s way into the places of your heart that you didn’t know were on your body’s directory - like the hidden ATM booth or the bathrooms with the heated toilets seats hidden in the quiet corner of the mall next to Zales and The Limited. This feeling was my glamourous bathroom and low-cost ATM. I basked in it’s presence as long as it felt the need to stay. It was the feeling that I had so longingly wanted and felt that it had been far too long since it had nestled it’s way into my life. I was living in the moment. I was without a good night’s sleep but with every buzz of my cell phone, the just-drunk-NyQuil feeling continually sauntered around my underslept stomach. I’d be up for hours and hours just with the anticipation of having a moment to say hello. This early stage of love proves to be the draw. It’s not the cheese at the end of the maze, but it’s the aroma of freshly cut Gouda peering around the corner. The most beautiful thing about this infant emotion is that, just like an child, it may grow up but it never loses it’s personality or charm or increasingly surprising good looks.

There is no good love without the first disappointment. Nothing sharpens your view than a wrench in the machine. Imagine your first cooking experience, when you didn’t realize that red coils on the stove don’t extend open invitations for fondling. You only see it as a glowing swirl of happiness and baking, and not the sharp, lingering pain that it causes. The feeling of a brick dropped from a 3 story building landing right into the pit of your stomach is one that both frightens and educates.

It didn’t seem at first as though it was going poorly. The sight of one another and the jovial conversation mixed with the anticipation of such a long time coming sort of situation really appeared as a glorious moment. Everything was going well, but then the dreaded wrench came into play. It seemed a though every emotion over the previous months had been stored in a vault. It was still present, but it was hidden in the back with the savings bonds and birth certificates. It wasn’t unimportant, it was just not the focus of the moment. Sitting at the teller’s desk was the first-time feeling of doubt. It would not be a quick fix, nor would it be an easy fix, but it certainly would prove to be an educational tool. The use of one’s first disappointment as a means of correction, not deletion, is an impeccably important skill. It falls into the same category as tying one’s shoelaces - supposing there are no slip-ons involved - or learning how to knit. Even though it may be difficult and your willingness to just give up and find an alternative - fashionable velcro shoes are few and far between - is skyrocketing, finding the ability to  overcome the unsettled lump in your stomach and push to the finish doesn’t only make you feel somewhat adjacent to Lance Armstrong, it makes the love that once settled itself into your heart grow just that much more. It really is true, you don’t know what you’ve got until you’ve almost lost it. Thankfully, and not without trial and error, extensive conversing and together time, and one killer smile, it pushed forward and the love continued to grow and find a continually maturing sense of comfort and ease.

I constantly strive to be good in everything I do. I like to set goals, reach them, and then find new goals that beat my last high score - which would explain my horrible iPhone addiction, but that’s another story. I find that no matter the scenario, this mind set plays a major role in my decisions and reactions. When faced with the different obstacles that love brings along, I try to find the winning reaction for everyone. With occasional lapses in the system - my emotional brain occasionally runs on Windows, I find that even though I may jump the gun and make unfortunate reactions, I know exactly what main goal I have in mind and will stop at nothing to make that goal be what I am trying to accomplish. In love, I find this to be vital. The teamwork between two individuals in love is an important commodity. It is a soccer team that needs to pass to one other and share to reach a common - thats right - goal. It doesn’t matter who kicks the winning goal, what matters is if the team wins. My team, we call ourselves the Macaron Messiahs, is comprised of two team players that may have disagreements in which play we should make, but often find ourselves agreeing on the best play for the team and continue on with that until the next play comes into view.

It takes time, the sculpting of a perfect love. It is by no means a gift card given to you that is everywhere you want to be. It is not handed to you on a silver platter. It is the product of attention, compromise, and that beginning seed of emotion that once was planted. It started as a simple crush that blossomed into what became a relationship with almost every reason not to work. Yet, there was a determination and with that was the award of the best feeling in the world. There is no emotion greater than one of love. It can show you the boundless expanse of your emotional field. It is constantly surprising me with what it can do, and even though rough patches in the pavement make the road a little bumpy, its the journey and the company that make the ride enjoyable - so long as we’re holding hands.

x.