When did I Know it was Love?

It’s tough to pinpoint, but I will give it a go.

It wasn’t when I first saw her. That was attraction.

It wasn’t because I couldn’t stop thinking about her. That was infatuation.

It wasn’t when I first held her hand. That was romance.

It wasn’t that every beautiful woman reminded me of her. That was adoration.

It’s not because it was hard to breath when she was near. That was passion.

It wasn’t when I hungered to taste her. That was lust.

It wasn’t even when we cuddled, and giggled together afterwards. No, that was intimacy.

Maybe it was when she arrived at breakfast in her house robe, wearing no make-up, her hair in a tangle, and she looked more beautiful to me than ever? Maybe that’s when I knew it was love.