How Do You Know What Love Is?

Thought Catalog

What is it — I struggle to know it as I desperately attempt to dig its remains out of my memory. I scour the surface of old photographs, fraying love letters, fragments of nightmares and the sensation that once tingled up my arms to figure it out. But I can’t. Age has made me forgetful, cynical. I wonder if I ever knew it.

Did I know it when I was 15 and under a nervously trembling body of another 15 year-old soul? Did I know it when I wrote love letters to his private boarding school across the globe, and he sent me the least generic of fortunes he collected from his late night Panda deliveries? Did I know it when we spent two nights and three days tangled up in unchanged sheets in a hotel in our own city, not knowing if it was day or night outside?

I will…

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