Love is a many-splendored thing…
In the early stages, it is exciting. New. It makes our hearts race and, rather inconveniently, forget how to talk. Later, it gets us up in the morning and provides a companion we know and trust. And always, it makes our heart soften a bit at the thought of our beloved. But why do we love who we love? What is it that makes someone the object of the most intense of human emotions? I, for one, haven’t the faintest idea.
Too many drinks?
An evolutionary need to pair, mate, and produce off-spring, thereby continuing one’s genetic traits through one’s progeny?
“For some reason, I like the shape of your head. For some reason I like the look on your face. That’s why I love you so much. And. For some reason I like the look on Dad’s face because I love him so much.”
The Kidling has it all figured out. I should have known.