Love it in the sense that love isn’t always about happiness, yes.
What do I love about it?
When Morning Dew glistens on grateful stalks of grass. When the sound of my boys being sneaky and playing the Wii at 5 in the morning brings me out of a slumber saturated in contentment. When I look over and laugh to myself, musing about the fact that my wife is dressed up and fancy for the day, but sprawled and unkempt during the night. The subtle nuances of a fine, red wine that swiftly aide in making a horrible day into a comical memory.
Music, Art, and nachos!
I love the differences in us. Were we all the same, life and love would be dull. I love the fact that people complain about holidays as if their life is so rough that a holiday need be a subject of debate.
I am in love with life, and she hates me. It’s a confusing relationship, but one I’ve come to respect and cherish.