Love is strange. It makes you feel like there is no one else in the world. And something this beautiful has to be unique. I bet no one else has ever felt this way before.

But then why are there are so many amazing poets out there who seem to have read my mind and said it better than I could have imagined? Why do some songs seem to have been written just for me? Every once in a rare while, why do I come across a story that relentlessly tugs at my heart strings?

Maybe the joy is more beautiful because the world knows it too. When I flit and float happily the morning after and the old lady at the bus stop gives me a knowing smile, maybe I feel happier? Not because the world knows I am happy, but the world joins me in being happy. We all know the same happiness and the same sorrows - and its those connections that we feel - across the borders, across cultures, across languages - that makes us feel at home. No matter where we are.