"What is love?" Asked a little boy no older then five.
The man smiled and looked down, responding with a light voice.
"Love is...Love is a feeling in your soul. When you are around the one you love most, you get butterflies in your stomach. Your chest tightens with a pain that makes it hard to breathe right each time you look at time. You wake up each morning, hoping that day is the day in which you start a life with that person. Love.. Is a silent death that takes the victim quietly. It is a illness that won't go away until you die. Its always there. That's what love is."
The little boy blinked, amazed.
"What is a special someone then?"
He asked once more.
The mans smile vanished, he looked up towards the beautiful night sky, then responded once again.
"They are your world. You would do anything for them. You want to see them smile everyday.. A special someone is a best friend who understands you, doesn't give up hope on you. Even if you are facing rough patches, they are there for you, and you for them. You find it hard to exist without them."
The little boy simply smiled.
"Like how you and mommy were?"
The man smiled sadly, turning his gaze to a old willow tree on a hill, a single old cross below it.
"Yes. I have never stopped loving her. She is my special someone, even through death."
He whispered.
