The Questioning Sort

I'm still questioning love.
Well not.. love itself, but if what I claimed to be love ever really was.

Perhaps it was love, but the simple sort that my brain created with chemicals.
Perhaps it was the love of caring, but not the 'flying' sort, not the sort that lifts you up to see your spirits twinkle together.
Perhaps it was the physical sort, the play-mate sort, the priority-of-self-learning sort. The questioning sort.


Not that it matters now, but I promised myself long, long ago that I wouldn't say or believe that I loved someone unless I was sure of it.
Well I broke that promise years ago, that was naivety, but I guess thats part of the process.