How far would Iyou go for love?

The Measure Of Love

If the lengths one is prepared to go to in order to nurture love are a measure of love, then my love measures 1,020. That’s how many kilometres I have travelled in the past fortnight to be with him.

If I am prepared to go to the ’enth degree to make love work, then my number is 180. That’s how many degrees my attitude to relationships has turned around since meeting him.

If time flies when you’re having fun, then add another 1,642. That’s how many days of singledom that have been forgotten in the fourteen days I’ve known him.

If love sets your heart racing, then I deserve a ticket for exceeding the speed limit. 120 is the dollars I would be fined; three, the number of points I would lose.

If love is blind, my number is twenty. Having learned from experience, my eyes are open, my vision twenty-twenty. I am prepared to see and accept what is real, not just what I want.

If I give love, I get more in return. So at the current market rate, add six percent compounding interest to any investment I make in helping love grow.

If love were fluid, I reckon add another 500 to the measure. That’s how many litres of jelly would fill a wrestling ring. By this I mean, love is like jelly – it is fun to roll around in, but the more you clench your fist the more it squeezes out of your grasp.

If love could be measured by tensile strength, then less is more. No matter how strong you are, you can’t hang on to something that doesn’t choose to stay. The only way to hold on to love is with open arms.

If love gives you wings, then I have no number. There is no measure of the dizzy heights love can carry me, the thrilling rush of attaining new heights. Dipping, lifting, soaring above it all; the wind under my wings taking me to new places of luscious wonder, discovery and fun.

If love is built on solid foundations, I have just turned my first clod. But I know our castle will reach to the stars, a shining monument to our 1,000,000 bricks of shared memories and goals, mutual respect, fiery passion and eternal faith.

End
© 2002 Anita Ryan