Being able to be.

In all the overwhelming information about love being overtly romanticized and the only way to save love is to not expect it to be so abstract and to give it practical meaning I end up associating it to music, and never the same song twice.
If this is not the turmoil that my heart decided to bestow on me, I don't know what is,and mind you it's never a conscious choice. It simply pops up, don't ask me how.This time it happens to be Saltwater Room-Owl City, and the lines that specifically make the pit of my stomach flip and go soft is 'What will it take to make or break this hint of love?
Only time, only time'...so I decide let time lead this awkward dance while I sit back and enjoy the moment and cherish the now where I am capable of relating words I heard a decade ago to a situation in all its spontaneity and genuinity. To try and not take life too seriously. To relax breath deep and relish and try not to find any particular in depth meaning of anything. Not changing to adapt, not trying to make it work, just being and being aware of being able to be. It's never made a difference you see, all the times where I worked my mind up so much so that I missed the whole point, the point of being me.