Wanted to get this down before I went to bed for the morning.

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me how I could tell I was in love. Or, rather, how he could tell he was in love, but whatever. I demurred; said I'd only been in love the once for real, and it was quite one-sided, so my experiences can't exactly be considered definitive, but he pressed. So the best I came up with was "when he was cut, I bled."

Since then, I've been trying to find a better way to sum up my thoughts on love, the full range of expression that I think of as love. Love is making coffee when it isn't your turn to get up early. Love is so good you forget your own name. Love is a cheap, ordinary gift that brings joy. Love is a tune you keep whistling all day. Love is listening to the rain on the roof on a summer's night. Love is making fun of your sister because she didn't call Mom on mother's day until almost noon. Love is dancing like everyone is watching.

Love is putting words in rhythm.

Love is finding your smile on a child's face.

I have, at long last, found a phrasing about love that I like. The author might say destiny, but she means love. Family maybe, but love too.

"Destiny! What do you know about destiny?" He rose and began to pace, zigzagging around bed and table. "I'm a frigging expert on destiny. Your lady is a false destiny, and do you know how I know? She takes everything, but she doesn't give anything back.

"Real destiny takes everything