Vu who???...

I guess to some people, love is nothing but just a word.

And the more often you say it, to too many people, the more it becomes meaningless.

But if you don’t say it at all, you’ll forget that the word ever existed in your vocabulary.

Then it’ll feel odd, sounds weird. And when someone utters the word to you, you’ll stare back, trying to comprehend the situation, trying to recall the meaning of the word vehemently.


To me, love is like déjà vu.

I have been in and out of love so many times. In fact, too many. Those feelings seem familiar, the word sounds familiar.

I recognize that lukewarm, fluffy, tingling sensation in my tummy. I notice that glow in my face, that neverending smiles. But was I really in love?

Was I ever in love?

When will my love be a jamais vu instead?