So you jump from one relationship to the next, and eventually you find one that you stick with. One that actually lasts a little while. Time passes, and one day you decide that you're in love.

How fucking convenient. You're in love with the one that you're with. What are the odds of that?

But that's the way it works, isn't it? You take what you can get, and maybe, just maybe, you find yourself having grown so accustomed to another person that you mistake affection for love. Until you get tired of that person, then you decide that you've fallen out of love.

And the cycle repeats.

What a load of steaming horse shit.

I've got something to tell you. Whatever it was that you fell out of, it wasn't love.

Love is when you don't have a choice. Love is when you don't always have weeks or months or years to convince yourself that this time, it's for real. Love is when you deny your feelings, because this can't be happening, because it's too soon, because this person isn't right for me. Falling in love is not a process, it's an event. Love is when a switch inside you suddenly flips on and then breaks off so it can never be switched back.

And the real thing about love, the thing that keeps you awake at night, the thing that makes it the cruelest emotion of all - is that it's not always mutual.

Stings like a bitch, doesn't it?

So just keep playing your little game of relationship hopscotch. Keep telling yourself that eventually you'll find that special someone. And if you don't love that person at first, maybe you'll grow into it, maybe you'll learn to love that person. Maybe that person will learn to love you.

Good luck with that. Really. Everybody plays the same game, so somebody's bound to win every now and then. May as well be you.

Just do me a favor. Don't profess your love when it's a crush, or when it's convenient, or out of guilt, or when it's simply better than being alone. Don't do that.

Because sometimes, sometimes you'll tell me that you love me, and I'll actually believe you.