Ramblings

Love is like a hobby.
You see it, see other people doing it and think "oooh looks good". So then you find some for yourself and in the beginning you can't get enough of it. It makes you smile and laugh and be nice to passing shrews. It's what you think of all day long, all you talk about and everything you do is motivated by love. You buy all the attachments, build a cabinet to hold souvenirs and spend hour upon, attentive, hour preening it. It becomes your world, the axis upon which you spin, faster and faster until you start to tilt, lose your balance and fall off. You enjoy your new hobby, you do it everyday but then work or family or PS2 gets in the way and you spend less time doing what you love. It becomes something you like doing but given the choice would do something else. You pack away all the accoutrements. It becomes something you have, not something you do. A day goes by when you don't think about it at all, then another and you forget how much you used to enjoy it. It's not new anymore, not exciting enough and you've taken all you can eek out of it. Days turn into weeks and then months and then one day you find yourself digging through the closet. You come across all the things you put away and think fondly, "Maybe I should get these out again and give it another try"