the threads in her head

I'm in love.

Yes, allow me to capture this moment in time, this phrase of simple feelings and emotions, with hardly any worries or doubts.

I'm in love, as much as I think or feel I ever could. Or, at least I think it's love. I'm not too sure. Perhaps I'm using the wrong word. If that is so, someone please correct me, such that this be more accurate, for others to understand fully.

But it seems like each day is so beautiful, that the sun is all bright, and the overcast sky is but only tinted with a soft grey glow that has a shimmering quality of its own.. And the clouds are passionately beautiful, with soft rolls and curls tucked into themselves.

I'm in love with my family, though they do strain and tired me out at times. But they also have their beautiful loving times, where everyone laughs, and is all smiles. Where teasings are kindly made, with a twinkle in the eye. Oh, they really really really do strain me out immensely, and sometimes my temper feels frayed just by looking at them. But still, I have to love them. So I try. I keep my voice down, I try to ask them to leave me alone whenever my temper starts getting too bad, so I won't scream at them and fly off into a really bad rage.

Though eh, it'll be a little nice to have a break from siblings. Um. Long enough for me to miss them? =\ Though I didn't miss them at all during the one week in Hong Kong, so I probably need a really long break. Oh no!

And I'm in love with school, though some may think me mad to even love such a thing. But the deadlines are over, and it seems I can see the nicer things in school. A friendly hello, a kind word, a gaze of concern, from friends, classmates and teachers alike. I'm in love with the smiles and laughers, with huge grins and the friendly crinkles at the eyes. How beautiful!

A patter of footsteps, a shriek of laugher, and yes, who can forget the little kids I am so fond of? The wild little tempers and tantrums, but whose rare, almost cherubic-side which has somehow captured my heart so tightly, who I'll be willing to carry and hold on to, if only I could. So fond of them, yes I am.

But yea, I know not whether is it right to be in such a state, where all transgressions are forgotten, or, cast to the back of my mind.

So is this love?

Or am I drowned in my own delusions, a lie by which my own hand has helped to craft ever so carefully, and growing bigger and bigger till it overpowers my own will, and leave me in an almost fantasy-like kind of bliss.

I know not.