Ocean Water

(if any of the following makes any sense to you (more than that brought by literary definition,) I love you. You are all my reasons.

Like waves,our decisions sway:

Some waves are strong and as you see them approach the shore, the anxiety creeps up and you start hoping this one does not submerge you - begging whatever you conceive God to be, that it'll feel remarkable and comforting against your skin. The kind that make you close your eyes and smirk as your thinking you're glad to be there.

Then there are those smaller waves. The kind that come countless of times per day. They mean something but only because they announce themselves when they splash your ankles and because with enough of those...there are big ones. It's a cycle, really. We welcome its invitation to the circuits.Blindly, sometimes. But always with dedication. Amount may vary.

But... waves fade and decisions transform
LOVE CAN BE MANY THINGS:
Admiration
Fascination
Appreciation
Devotion/Dedication
Inclination
Fixation
Consolation
Attraction

Some say that combination of all the "tion"s is what: "True Love" is. I'm no one with enough accreditation to wisdom, to declare that assumption as incorrect.
But lucky me: It's safe to think my narcissism leads to the determination necessary for conviction enough to attempt believing otherwise.
So I try on such assumptions just for size. And then tell you my side. (Whether it matters to any extent or not)

My descisions are based on observation.But I also like possibility...

NOW WE PLAY THE WAITING GAME

As of now, the personification of "love" (to me) is a man with shorts that don't cover his knees, wearing expensive boots and
you can tell he's wearing comfortable socks, and a nice button-up shirt that makes you wonder if he wears it all the
time because it has some stains, all which he is alright with. And he has this way of walking that couldn't be more
confident. But yet sometimes he couldn't look more terrified at possibility when his hands are in his pockets. He's a
man who, with a smile, can make you want to buy him a vest with pockets and encourage him to fill the pockets with
insignificant nothings that he comes across (like the tobacco at the bottom of a cigarette box,) and ask him about
his assumptions of everything dealing with the perception of life. He's a man that makes you even more intrigued when
he admits that to him, his assumptions are divine in their stupidity.

SIMPLY PUT:
the feeling of "love" (to me) is that weakness we all ache for-the ardor we would do anything for...