At 3:13 am

At 3:13 am on that fateful December night, love came to me in all its glory and splendor. It was a love that knew no bounds, a love that defied all logic and reason. I loved bluntly, with a passion that burned like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

For me, love was not just a feeling, but a physical sensation, a union of the vertebrae and the conjunction of the knees. It was saucy and beautiful, an overdose of courage that allowed me to love without judgment, without rules or restrictions.

I loved the looks, the moonlight, the taste of the kiss, and the naughty smiles that left me feeling joyous without reason. With love, my feet were off the ground, and I felt a sense of belonging that was both comforting and exhilarating.

Love gave me thousands of butterflies in my stomach, and I loved the absence of theories that often come with the act of loving. I loved because it gave me the courage to do what I would never do if I were normal, to speak my truth and to live my life to the fullest.

Love helped me to endure the truths, to talk nonsense, to make stories, and to keep them in memory. It allowed me to tolerate the day and to remember how good it is to love. With love, I was able to make life beautiful and weave it into poetry.

I loved to cuddle my body to my loved one, to shut my mouth and loosen my knots. It was a love born out of stubbornness, passion, and unrest, a love that warmed me to my very core.

Love was the only word that made rhyme, song, poetry, movies, and other follies of artists. It took me to all the planets without leaving the Earth, and it filled me with a sense of wonder and awe.

Love was uninterrupted, with no pause, no punctuation, no accentuation, and no other demands. It was continuous, without other versions or chatter asking for an encore. And I loved it all because love did not give up on me.

Copyright ? Beatriz Esmer