My best friend got married this weekend. I was his best man.

We all know she's the most emotional girl in the world and that he doesn't openly show his emotions all that much. We knew she was going to cry more than anyone in the church.

She was walking down the aisle and through a quivering smile, he had tears falling down his cheeks and he couldn't stop muttering 'Wow' throughout the ceremony and he never took his eyes off her. Not for one second.

She couldn't stop blushing and she did everything not to cry.

His voice cracked during his vows.

We gave him a ton of crap for crying (totally guy stuff, nothing personal) because she wasn't the emotional one anymore.

But he didn't care. "She's the only one I'd ever cry in public for."

I'm discovering that maybe love isn't about erratic heart beats and flushed cheeks. Perhaps it's about finding someone who convinces you that no, you won't die if you flunk your calculus final. Maybe love is when he can help you find yourself when you're irrevocably lost on life's incomprehensibly vast map.

I believe that love is about feeling warm and complete, a drizzle of rain to help you grow. Not being confined as a stuttering fool; that's a whimsy crush, or being starstruck. Love is something beautiful and long-lasting and perfectly made yet complication-prone.

Dear girl with the chipped red fingernails,
I want you to know that I noticed you. Even though I am sure you didn't want anyone to see that you were a person. I saw through your baggy grey t-shirt and black pants. I want you to know that your smile is the prettiest thing I had seen all week. I'd never heard of this site before but I overheard you talking to your friend about it. You told her that you wished someone would write about you. Well.... here you go.

Don't change. - Guy with the tie dye shoelaces

It sounds silly, but when I was young, I used to dream of being able to meet a girl who needed saving.

I don't know why it was like that, but I would always dream of meeting this girl who had been hurt or something, who had been through a lot of crap, and needed someone who could save her, who would tell her that everything was going to be okay, who would show her that life is full of love and hope and not all bad. I would show her that she was worthy of being loved.

Weird, right? I was like 13 or 14 and used to think of something like that. I probably was alone in being that type of guy.

Am I like that anymore?...I don't know. I met her, and was convinced that she had settled for someone that didn't truly love her. She pretty much had told me she was just scared of leaving him. But she's still with him some time later now, and I don't think that's going to change. I kept thinking about how beautiful, strong, graceful and down-to-earth she is, and it just didn't seem right.

At this point, I don't know if she needs to be saved. Maybe she's moved past those things about him and accepted him as the one for her. Maybe she needs to be saved still. But I don't think I'm capable of being the one who could do that for her. I only wish I was.

I do know one thing. She saved me, and she doesn't know it. She changed the person I was. I was a selfish, apathetic jerk. Through meeting her, I learned to care again. I learned to let someone in again. I learned to love again, even if you can't tell that person you love them. She saved me from being a complete nothing -- I really believe that.

I hope that, if she needs it, I can show her what she truly deserves. And maybe save the girl I had dreamed about long before I met her.

Forbidden love is a tricky thing. When you fall in love with someone, they are they are interwoven into your every thought. They are a magnet that draws you in to their embrace. 

Forbidden love is a tricky thing. Because when all you want to do is hold their hand, or tell your friends how happy they make you, or go to dinner with them and see what that beautiful smile of theirs looks like lit up by a candle in the middle of the table, you can't. 

Forbidden love is a tricky thing. You have to keep a safe distance, so no one can see. 

Forbidden love is a tricky thing. Because one day he may get way too drunk and end up on your friend's couch, desperately searching for you. And after giving in to his calls, you may sit on the edge of the couch so that he can grab your hand. He may grab you face in front of everyone in the room and pull you inches away from his and tell you how badly he wants to kiss you. 

Forbidden love is a tricky thing. Because in that moment, when you are so close to the one thing want more than anything in the world you can almost taste it, you have to walk away. 

There's something exhilarating about putting your heart out on the line. Its like standing on the edge of a cliff for the first time in your life, and looking down out the waves crashing beneath you. You don't really know what lies underneath the glimmering surface, all you know is that you have hiked a treacherous journey to get to that very spot. Who knows how deep that water is. There is a chance that if you leave that ledge, you may never see the edge of the water again. The tension builds as you look out over the water, weighing all the risks that you are taking when your foot leaves that ledge. You jump anyways though. Why? Because if you were meant to die that day, you would regardless of whether you took that step or not. And then you are falling. Your whole life is racing by in a blur and you are floating. Thats where I am. Not yet to have hit the water, just gracefully drifting into my fate. 

I just want your thoughts to catch you off guard, casually drifting off to me and cutting out short - curious as to why I popped in your mind.

I want you to fall for me like a soft rain - it's not urgent and does to require immediate care. But sooner or later, the soft rain drenches your clothes: And that's when you realize that you love me.

I want you to fall for me as much as I've fallen for you.

 

Don't try to understand love. 

Love is supposed to be confusing.

That's what makes it love.

If love followed reasonable thoughts and was perfectly understandable it wouldn't be love at all.

It would simply be logic. 

And falling in logic with someone just sounds silly.  

The sweetest girl I know is my best friend.

And I would marry her if the opportunity ever arised. Truly, she's an angel and the poor thing doesn't even know it.

I definitely have a crush on her, but she's so good, like it's heartbreaking because she thinks that she's anything but lovely.

She doesn't think she's remotely pretty. She doesn't think she's wonderful like I know she is...

Sweetheart, you're so amazing, I just wish you would love yourself the way I know nearly all of us boys do in school.

I work at a coffee shop and it's hard to please everyone.

Including my coworkers. I do everything I can to make it easier on all of us.

I just wish that the others would try.

There's this guy that is probably a 12.5 on the attractive scale of 10 (at least on my attractive scale) and he comes in each day and orders an iced coffee with mocha caramel and sugar. I'm often the one to make his coffee and pass it off to him sometimes making small talk, so I usually have it ready as he passes his card to my coworker.

One day I was washing the floor when my coworker ordered me rudely back behind the counter. I put the wet floor sign up but then without heeding it's warning I slipped right on my back.

My coworkers immediately groaned at me (I'll admit, I am a bit of a klutz).

But the attractive guy came right over and helped me to my feet.

And ever so smoothly, he smiled at me and said dripping with as much sweetness as his coffee had, "I've been waiting for you to fall for me."

And I smiled at his cheesiness and I blushed shyly as I headed behind the counter.

And my coworker jealously offered to make his coffee since I'm a klutz.

And for the second time in the day he made me blush again when he said. "She's not a klutz," he rolled his eyes. "And I like the way she makes coffee, it tastes the best. Thank you gorgeous," he said and pulled my hand so I leaned across the counter so he could kiss my cheek and leave without another word.

But of course, he came back the next day. And he slipped on the floor. "I could sue you," he said with a grin. "And I'd own the shop."

"Wouldn't be me," I said bravely. "I just work here."

"Well, I guess I'd own you," he winked. But that sounded so good.

I shook my head and stared at him. "You've got to stop falling for me," i said yet again braver than I felt.

And he laughed and pulled my lips down to his.