“So, are you in love?” asked the sweet little Brazilian boy.
The boy was surfing our couch, and I had just muttered something about BBot, who was not there. The question took me aback. I stuttered and said I know I love him, but I hadn’t really thought about it that way. Which led to the other disturbing question, “Are you happy?” More on that another time.
Once I began to think of it, I began to wonder: what does it mean to be “in love”? Can’t stay away from each other? Call and text all the time? Can’t keep hands off each other? Never fight? Physically joined together at all times? Nauseate everyone around you? Fight, but can’t bear to not make up immediately? Have huge disagreements, of a fundamental nature, and cry and shout and snarl and positively dislike the other person, but be incapable of conceiving being apart or giving them up or finding someone else?