What Does Real Love Feel Like?

it feels like prozac.

no but seriously to a greater extent it will feel like a high from crysal methamphetamine.

both release seratonin. theres your answer as definitive as you will ever get from this forum

I have never tried meth and I probably never will so I do not know how to compare it to my dream feeling. I am thinking this may have been a hard question if only one person is able to answer.

Has no one felt love or is it not something you can describe?

I felt love and it's really undescribable...

But I can relate to what you felt in your dream...

I once read that passion lasts for two years, to give the couple time to produce a child. Whether this is so or not I don't know, but it appears to make some evolutionary sense. I think sweettart, that what you are describing is passion, not love. Passion is wonderful and terrible at the same time. You can think only of your beloved. Your hormones are running on "high" and this feeling pervades every fiber of your body.

Love is quieter, and more enduring. When passion wanes, either the relationship dissolves, or love begins to grow. Passion is a bonfire, while love is a warm and cozy hearth.

My mother used to say that you know that it is love when your beloved's nose is running, he's coughing and being generally miserable. Instead of being turned off by this, your only thought is to help him to feel better.

Love is the coolwhip on top of your lime-green jello. The Jello is ok without it, but it makes the Jello so much more satisfying. *nods*

Love feels like the warm flow of urine over your body while chained to the shower faucet.

i stand corrected

Sweettart--

Your dream seems to me to be one of Mystical Union rather than Earthly Love.

but you can't keep screaming it out over an over again in the hotel Slap... if you don't learn a LITTLE self control you could end up lonely and loveless...

Well said by both of you, Phoenix.

sweettart, let's eliminate the word "real" from your question as it is too ambiguous. The sense of touch is an amazing emotion and comes in different packages. Noddy, Phoenix, JPB and I have experienced this first hand. If you have had a head ache and someone massages your temples, thus easing the pain, you will understand the power of touch.

This was sent to me by my friend Cheryl and I think it says a great deal about love that even children understand.

WET PANTS

Come with me to a third grade classroom..... There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives.

The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, "Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I'm dead meat."

He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.

As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy's lap.


The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, "Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!"


Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else - Susie.


She tries to help, but they tell her to get out You've done enough, you klutz!"


Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Susie whispers back, "I wet my pants once too."

Love is finding a half-eaten bag of M&Ms on the sidewalk and eating them.

Love is the last three weeks of arena football season.

Love is escaping a sting operation in a pornographic movie hosue.

Love is a leg cast.

Love is Night Court reruns at the Red Roof Inn and smelling like chlorine.

Love is jack-in-the-box with a doll painted to look like you who stabs you repeatedly.

Love is a teddy bear riding a unicorn through a field of sunflowers with laughing human baby faces.

Like falling off a cliff with stomach doing somersaults and never being hungry and floating to the ceiling and the world crashing around you--but you just don't care...cause you're smiling the stupidest ****-eating grin...and nothing bad can happen....if he loves you...


or


weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Love is shaving your body before a swim meet.

No. That's just crazy.

Just wait until I finish three tenths of a second ahead of you. Then we'll see who's crazy.

Some of you have really interesting ways to describe the feeling of love. If I eliminate urine showers, green Jello, body shaving and arena football I think I'm left with wet pants, snotty noses and mystical unions that are not of this earth.

Sigh.

I do think I need to go back to dreaming.

Sweetheart--

Mystical unions don't have dirty laundry--in fact, a good mystical union comes with zero baggage.

I was just being silly and putting together the messages from you, Letty and Phoenix.

No baggage? Yes, that would be mystical I think. Maybe that feeling I had only exists in dreams.