I just realized that most of the time I talked about how I love certain things but never about the concept of love itself. No, I don’t avoid it. To be honest, the idea of love is not something I usually think about.
Okay, maybe I did think of making an entry about love at one point but I think I brushed it off immediately. I just feel like there’s this one whole universe living inside this four-letter word and I think one entry is just not enough to explore it.
But here we are in this writing prompt. I mean, I could just skip this whole thing but what the hell.
I believe that love is what makes us human beings tolerable to live with. I mean, we live among the meanest and the cruelest and the most broken beings of the universe. Every day we hear awful news about people capable of hurting and destroying one another yet we still smile at that butcher in the market even if he’s capable of skinning us alive. We still offer that lady a seat even if she might stab us when we turn around. We still lull that baby to sleep even if he might grow up to destroy the world.
We still care about that person and we still make sure that they have everything that they desire even if, those things might destroy you or that person might leave you someday.
I think love, in its many varieties, is overlooking rationality and all the awful possibilities that might happen for the sake of that person or thing. It’s paying attention to their needs and dreams. It’s compassion and sometimes the root of our courage. It’s making sacrifices that might hurt a lot at first but then you’ll realize how satisfying it is when you see the outcome.
At this point, my idea of love is still as blurry as ever. Unless I was Google, I can’t really define it. But we all have felt it at some point of our lives and I think that’s just enough for us to understand what it is.