Don’t worry, I don’t really have an answer to that.
I can’t tell anyone what love is, only that it is something that you know exists only when you have truly felt it for yourself. Love is many things of course. It is a fire that rages and burns you with fierce desire, but it is also the quiet of that gentle glance across a shadowed room. It is hands holding while tears stream and the ache that comes in the wee hours when a byzantine argument seems that it will have no end…and all you want is to fall into the person’s arms instead of screaming.
Love is fast moments of overwhelming passion and years of warm routine, it is sharing the world through each other’s eyes and being mystified by how someone cannot see what you see.
It is contradiction and consolation and condolence and a deep sharing of strength when it is most needed. It is being alone and forever together. It is respect and caring and anger and forgiveness. It is touching and kissing and longing for a touch that is withheld.
No, I can’t tell anyone what love is, only that I have found it myself and it still is amazing to me, and still so baffling. It is wanting to understand and being content with the journey of discovery…a journey that will last forever.
I can’t tell you what love is, because if you have found it yourself, then you already know.
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