Not love

At a time like this, language is extremely constricting. A time when you need the word that would accurately describe the feeling you get when she's in your arms. A time when you need the word that could describe the moment that you kiss. A time when you need the word that describes the moment when she leaves, and you close the door, straining to catch one last glimpse of her back as she leaves, through the smallest of gaps in the door.



Feelings so unique, that any linguist trying to accurately use a word that would describe the complexity of such situations would end up with a severe migraine. Such feelings do not have names.



If there was such a word, every syllable in the word uttered by a person would linger on the lips, tasting of the finest of chocolates. Not any dime store Hersey bar, but confectionery, in stores where one does not do anything so crass as to buy things, but rather exchange hands through the process of commerce. It makes you picture the face that creates the feeling of lightness in the your heart, causing your heart to flit lightly in your chest. You feel the word as it travels down your body, causing every nerve ending on your body to both relax and tense up at the same time. It continues to linger in your body after she's gone, lurking behind every day tasks, and appearing once you let your mind relax. You see her, and it comes back stronger than ever, pushing its way to the front of all your thoughts, leaving you once again with this feeling

They call it love, but capturing this feeling is impossible with any word, in any language.