Why is it that new love is cuter than old love? As an outsider looking in, the awkward stage always makes people "oooh" and "awww." Once people are a thing, the cutesy effect seems to wear off.
It's the moment before an applause. There's anticipation. You know the thunder is coming, but the seconds seems to last for ages. No one wants to clap first. Then it happens. The culmination of work and stress is relieved by a simple secondary reinforcer; the smacking of hands together. In many ways, the precursor is better than the actual event.
Does this make sense? No. Is love supposed to make sense? I wish.
I'm happy. He's great. But is this it? I'm fine with always having to work at it, but why can't love sustain itself? Love should be easy. It should feel new.
In other news, my orchestra concert was wonderfully average. No one came, as usual. Mr. First Chair had first chair, as usual. I didn't practice, as usual. My hair looked unusually horrible, which is a first. Ohh, and I'm signed up for Girls' State this summer! The end.
It's the moment before an applause. There's anticipation. You know the thunder is coming, but the seconds seems to last for ages. No one wants to clap first. Then it happens. The culmination of work and stress is relieved by a simple secondary reinforcer; the smacking of hands together. In many ways, the precursor is better than the actual event.
Does this make sense? No. Is love supposed to make sense? I wish.
I'm happy. He's great. But is this it? I'm fine with always having to work at it, but why can't love sustain itself? Love should be easy. It should feel new.
In other news, my orchestra concert was wonderfully average. No one came, as usual. Mr. First Chair had first chair, as usual. I didn't practice, as usual. My hair looked unusually horrible, which is a first. Ohh, and I'm signed up for Girls' State this summer! The end.
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