This is a love for all of the people who need love, want love, found love, are searching for love, are love, and those who make love real.
Last year I was so broken hearted that I didn't know if I would ever get out of bed, much less meet love again. My life and love had run head first, full blast, into a wall without a helmet.
The damage was pretty gosh darned dramatic and resounding; I mean metaphysical drooling in a wheelchair impact.
PTSD, a severe distrust of members of the opposite sex, and an almost viral infection of debilitating independence took me for a joyride through my plundered life.
One year later, after taking time for myself to exist anew, Love and all that warm fuzzy stuff is fluffing my pillow every night.
So thanks, Love - Thanks for being there when I came home, and thanks for all the tingles, smooches, heart palpitations, and reasons to keep opening my door whenever you come a knockin'. —McTweedlebottom