love’s funny.

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Loves funny. Isn’t love funny? Loves funny.

You can control anything you want in this life when it comes to yourself. You have almost complete freedom over you. You control how you walk, how you speak, how you decide to spend your time, how you think (sometimes with practice), and even your emotions.

But love? Noooo. Love doesn’t obey to rules. You can’t choose who you love. You can’t decide to like someone. You can’t decide to not like someone. Even when you know it’s right. Even when you know it’s wrong.

I mean, sure, there may be certain traits you admire that become a pattern among the people you love, but that doesn’t mean you can predict love.

And then when you do love someone. You become this mushy gushy silly replica of the person you once were. Suddenly whenever you see this person, your heart beat rises, your hands get sweaty, as if you’ve suddenly faced a grizzly bear. Then talking to the person? A disaster. The sentences you say don’t make sense, the jokes you try to make aren’t funny, what happened to you?

Then you’re beating yourself up for acting like a total idiot in front of the person you love.

Loves funny.

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