Love. A text post. Still exploring being completely known.

Thoughts on Love, by me

It is my pleasure.
It is my pleasure and sometimes it is my pain.
To love you.
I love you.
Not that I love you and seek romance
but I love you as a person, as a friend.
It is my pleasure to love you.
It is my pleasure and sometimes it is my pain.
The pleasure in loving.
The pain in loving.
I don't regret loving at all.



These words below are by C.S. Lewis:

To love at all is to be vulnerable.
Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket of coffin of your selfishness.
But in that casket of your selfishness--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change.
It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers of love is Hell.