Messing it up- old school and romance

It's like a fairy tale,
How we think of it,
And the funny things is,
That is all there is to it;

The small things,
The innocence,
The naturally growing fond of someone,
The little moments,
All of it;

What it is not,
Is the pre calculated flavours,
The needs and wants being measured,
The power struggle,
The ego clash;

Let it happen,
Love is uncertain,
And it is at the core of its nature,
It is a leap of faith none can define,
And to limit it by our understanding is fatal,
It is he simple things,
The adrenaline,
And that's all there is to it,
That's where magic lies;

The complicated human,
Thinks one could make more of it,
One could measure it,
One could define the rules,
And apprehend the probabilistic result,
Neither of which of true,
As messed up love is,
We complicate it further,
Fools we are to think,
It can be smothered with parameters,
The whole feeling of magic,
Is what we are pulling out,
Sweet old romance,
Almost leaving our place;

To old school and the little times,
I hope we learn to trust the fleeting moments,
I hope we learn to trust the magic of feeling love,
And that is all there is to it;