I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

All right, let’s talk about love for a while. This could fill up the rest of these pages and probably a good 80 or so more. It won’t, I just have a need to talk about it for a while.

I didn’t believe it a first when I was toldthat if you loved someone, you loved them forever, no matter what. I though that you loved, you lost, that’s it. Then I fell in love. And yes, it will last forever. I loved, I lost, I love still.

You can’t help it. No matter how hard you try, you can’t hate that person. Sure, you’ll say bad things, rant & rage about their faults, say that you hate them. But you’re still in love.

I’ve said before, that I had never been hurt by love, only disappointed. Let’s expand on that statement.

When I finally realized that I was in love and being loved, I was purely and simply happy. I was overjoyed that things were the way they were.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my eighteen-year-old self’s thesis on love.This is part one of four. Let’s save all commentary until the end, shall we?