I am in love with a woman who has an amazing handle on the English language, unlike me. Writing is something that comes from my heart but punctuation and spelling seem to have been excluded entirely from my DNA. Which leads me to wonder should I perhaps not write publicly because of this deficiency? Of course on further thought that indeed seems absurd, one must try to express themselves as honestly as possible and if that happens in bad writing, so be it. It’s not like the world is reading my blog anyway!

But what of other things in our life that must be expressed even though not perfectly like love. Love has been on my mind a great deal of late. There seems to be as many forms of love as there are species of ants. True love, real love, mature love, passionate love, stable love, deep love, expressed love and on an on and on. Love is used to describe ones feelings on baseball and ice cream as well as the deepest regions of our soul. But what is love? What makes it real? And how do we interact with each other with love in a world whose ability to love seems to rival my ability to punctuate? Puzzling indeed.