Is This Love?

Still waiting for the whole Cody thing to fade.  I know I’m just glorifying the memories.  Why do we have such a fascination with symbols and imbuing various objects/moments with meaning?  Why such an emphasis on patterns and significance?  Why is the moon so easily made into a symbol?  It makes me think of Cody because he said it was his favorite thing, because that first magical kiss was under moonlight in the ocean, because of our conversation about aliens bleaching the moon and because everytime I see it, I know that if he were to look up, he would see the same thing and, as lame as that is, it’s still a connection.

Why does any of this matter?  Why does it hold meaning?  What chemical conglomeration causes me to hold certain moments in reverence, assign significance to meaningless things…to still love…despite all of the overwhelming amount of reasons not to?

I don’t love him. Or do I?  I dont’ even know what love is.  I don’t even know him, but god did he fascinate me.  and he was just so beautiful to me physically…and he made me happy, just being around him made me so happy.  I would’ve jumped in front of a bullet for him.  What does that mean?  I would’ve easily taken a bullet for him, especially if I thought it would make him love me.  That’s not love, though, is it?  It’s not as easy for me to say I’d jump in front of a car, because the thought of being physically disabled terrifies me.  Does that mean it’s for sure not love?  SPlit second, I don’t know what I would do.  I know for anyone else in front of a car, I wouldnt’ even be tempted, but for him….if I thought I could save him, I’d have to do something.  Why?  He’s done nothing for me but break my heart.