Rendezvousing and Dog Butts

Love is gross.

But I probably say that because the closest I've come to love is that awkward junior high relationship that's, like, a statement that you can be an adult as a thirteen-year-old.  Even though the whole thing consists of walking to the bus together and hugging in the hallways.  (Except, the school banned that and proclaimed it was PDA.

We did it anyway.)

Then you move on and a few years later there's that summer rendezvous which you know is doomed to end once the school bells start ringing.  I think this relationship exists so that a person can have someone to hang out with for three months.  It's a distraction; a brief source of entertainment; something to satisfy our hormones and hyped up emotions.  It's terminal.

And although I've experienced both of these, I've never been close to saying those three words that everyone foams at the mouth over.

I mean, I love my family and my friends and my dog.  (Especially my dog.)  And I've said it to all of them, but no one talks about that kind of love; no one wants to hear about that.

And the worst part is, I can't even tell if my dog understands me when I say it.  I mean, she wags her tail and rubs her butt against me, but is that love?

What is love, really?