The one where it had to be you.
How is there any other way to write this entry to state a point without coming off as a braggart, a minimalist, and an idealist? At noon on a Sunday, why do I want to run around Cyberworld and scream this? I love love, I'm in love, and I love the thought of love between two people outside of myself, and this period of thought may last for only the next three seconds, but something entices me to explain myself; saying I'm "in" love does not do my feeling justice: I am living love, even after 8 months and 5 days, and this life of love has caused drama, bad choices, explosion, and horrible, dreadful things that didn't even happen when I wasn't part of this love. But I can't live without it because I wouldn't be me, and I wouldn't be living as me, because I'm living love. And there's no other untangible thing I'd rather be living for. And even if Harry Connick, Jr. is a very ugly man and I'm the only one that thinks that, I had to quote him because he's so, so right. Now read the title.