I wonder if love is like Christmas. When you're young and childish you await it eagerly and when it's here, you're filled to the brim with smiles and giggles. But as you grow up, for whatever reason, you don't feel it's the same. The honeymoon period is over and the holiday feels more like a chore than a privilege. I'm not sure what a relationship feels like, but I have a pretty good idea what it's like. But he's not like Christmas. Every day I spend with him is its own holiday, and the only two people on this earth celebrating it are me and him. He makes me feel that same, familiar anticipation in my stomach, an uneasy combination of nervousness and joy. Instead of any presents, he gives me the greatest gift of all, his care and attention. And if thousands of children can believe a big, red man will travel the world in one day to deliver gifts , then I don't see how I couldn't believe one person loves me. I guess you can still call me a kid though, cause I'm choosing to believe that lie.
