Castle: “How do you know when you’re in love?”
Beckett: “All the songs start to make sense.”
A tear rolls down my cheek as I listen to Boyce Avenue’s “Never thought”. This seems to occur as many times as I listen to this ballad. The first time it happened, I prayed. Begging, crying uncontrollably to God, to never take you away from me.
There’s a strange addiction in love. So sweet it could poison all your senses but still somehow leave you begging for more. True love isn’t just as ‘deep as the oceans blue’ or ‘as high as the skies above’, it’s spiritual. It sweeps you off of your feet. Gives you a strange courage. A feeling that you can conquer the world as long as you’re holding your beloved’s hand.
How the sound of your voice can calm the wave of disproportion inside of me. How you telling me you love me can lift me up to the surface even from the darkest of pits. And how your arms feel like home, my sanctuary, I might never be able to comprehend entirely. But I guess that’s the beauty if it. The sense in the nonsensical. The calm in the chaos.
I don’t just love you a ‘whole lot’. I truly, deeply, madly, in-every-sense-of-the-word, love you. And I always will.