What is love? Baby don't hurt me. Don't hurt me, no more.

And I think that's the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. You can love a million different things about a person and care for them greatly, while still holding on to that dark thing that beats in the center of your chest. But once you're in love something strange happens. You see, you take that beating thing, that is so closely guarded, and you ever so gently place it in their hands. And in that small moment you realize something. In that small moment you know that person could take everything you are and just absolutely destroy you in a way that no one else could possibly understand or replicate. And we, as silly, silly, stupid human beings, just hand it over. And we spend every night hoping and praying that in the morning they'll still have a tight grip on that dark beating thing that belongs in the center of your chest. That thing that keeps you alive. That thing you stupidly gave to someone else for safe keeping. And even if they let go and hurt you, you never ever ever stop hoping and praying that one day they'll pick it back up again.