Love is a funny thing. You expect it to be easy. You expect it to be a world of roses and laughs and perfect moments that you find only in movies. You expect them to always say the right thing and always know exactly how you feel or how to react to it. You expect them to calm you down when you're yelling or chase you when you run away. You expect to much that you feel entirely and utterly defeated when something doesn't exactly match up with all of your plans. But that's the thing, love isn't a plan. It doesn't have a certain beginning and it certainly has no end or a visible finish line to those deeply in it. Love happens and it's so incredibly messy.
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