Thoughts on love (from my journal)

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Love is arguably one of the greatest adventures a human could embark on.

Love blooms from an initial attraction and, with enough watering, blossoms into something unconditional—the kind of love that is durable, and lasts despite the death of attraction. Like creates love, then love creates like. One day you might find yourself in strikingly perfect sync with somebody, but before you know it, years have gone by and you’re fumbling to compromise with the one who used to fit you like a glove. Yet love will teach you how to re-encounter each other over and over again. Love is what keeps you from discarding every relationship that stops fitting into your ideals, it’s what stops you from giving up on someone when you don’t feel loved by them anymore. True love is impossible to forget.

Love is realising that you could talk to them forever and never get tired of it. Love is that warm fuzzy feeling you get just from looking at them. Love is the ache in your soul when they hurt. Love is pure delight in their successes, unadulterated by envy. Love is choosing to stay when you’re free to walk away. Love is choosing to work things out when you feel like leaving. Love is showing up for someone even when you don’t want to. Love is giving without wanting anything in return. Love is inviting and alluring yet treacherous and terrifying. Love is beautiful and wretched, a blessing and a curse, a double-edged sword and a roller-coaster. Love is ubiquitous and unexplainable all at once. Love is totally irrational and logically impossible by any societal standards.

Lately in all of my conversations I’ve been bringing up how strange it is that love means a million things, yet we only made one English word to encapsulate all of it. I suppose that this is why we need books and poetry and plays and movies and all of these different relationships throughout our lives to try and figure it out, or at least figure out what it means to us. Even then, those attempts often feel like shots in the dark, leaps of faith and shouts into the void. But there are still some things about love that really do ring true, I think. Like how love is inherently hopeful and undeniably beautiful. Love can be quick and intense or slowly creep up on you until one day you wake up and realise that something’s just changed, and it happened right under your nose. Shallow rivers run deep: sometimes you only realise how much you loved someone after they’ve left. It’s difficult to understand what you have until it’s gone.

And gosh, love can hurt as much as it can heal. But every time that love walks out, think twice before slamming the door shut. Look back at the wonderful mess you created and remember it for what it was: every tear it wrought, and also every smile.

In the words of Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye:
‘If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her. Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet. Whisper “Thank you for stopping by.”’

The future is boundless. Maybe the possibility of love leaving is worth the possibility of love staying.

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