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I mostly think about love. How people around me feel it - know love. How they can safely be with someone and say they are in love. How people around me can be killed tomorrow and say they have loved.
Have I loved?
Have I loved anyone or anything?
Sometimes I catch myself thinking I would cry if my mother dies. But after a few good cry, I would see her death as both a burden and a beginning of my freedom; burden in a sense that I would have to have a funeral for her and I would have to pay people and I see it a waste of money (but then again I would not want to disservice her and do anything less she deserves) and beginning of my freedom in a sense that I can finally do what I want and finally cut ties with my relatives seeing that I never was close to them any way. I can move somewhere - start anew. I can live the life I want: simple and quiet. I can work odd jobs at the library or I can teach children. I can study more too! Maybe run a shop or something. Maybe I can have a roommate. Maybe I can get myself a tiny cottage somewhere secluded, simple, quiet, happy.
Maybe I can even love. And be loved. So that when I day I can say I have loved.
But what is love? What is it exactly? Is it the beating of the heart getting faster int he presence of someone? the sweating of palms, or even the shaking of hands? Is it the eyes that widens and the lips and couldn't help a smile? Is love when you remember a scent so fondly or you make excuses for something that makes you fond?
Is love running your fingers on someone's hair and scratching their scalp while you hold a book in your other hand?
People think love is real therefore it is. People think that love exists therefore it does. People think that love can make you happy and so it will do.
We have been so obsessed with the idea of love that when you ask someone what it means, they would give you a thousand answer but none of which can tell you what it is.
Love is in the form of a million things and none at the same time. It exists and it doesn't. It makes you happy and makes you cry. Love opens your eyes and yet makes you blinder than the blind.
Love makes us open our minds yet shut logic out.
When I watch shows, people tell me it's not how love is yet people tell me love looks exactly like in the movies. They conjure up the fanciest of images and the worst of nightmares that I can't help but think love is nothing more than an idea - a thought. Someone liked the concept and made a big deal out of it and now that we have so much words for love - we do not know what it exactly is.
Lately I have been feeling a little down and I have been thinking about love a lot. I know it doesn't matter for I am busy with my life as it is but I can't help but feel envious of those who can call upon a lover for a hug. Those who can leave a chaste kiss upon one's skin any time of day - all that affection just pouring into one person you can call your own. A person who can listen to you and listen to. A person who will ask you about your day and get mad with you or at you. A person you build a life with. I can't help but feel that I have a want inside but I have too many flaws I see.
I have told myself love is nothing and I don't want it if it's too flawed and people might tell me nothing is perfect and 'love is blind' and all that. But the thing is, I love myself too much to waste myself on someone. I have taken too long before I finally loved and accepted me and if I have to mold myself to fit someone else then it's an effort for naught. I shouldn't have loved myself and instead looked for someone to depend my love on.
I want to love myself so I know when to stop. I want to love myself so I know when they should stop. I want to love myself so we both know if it's bad and killing us already. I want to love myself so I can love somebody else and maybe even grow with them if they let me. I want to love myself so that if they leave I can still have myself - maybe cry a little and hurt for a while - and move forward with my life. People talk of loving yourself before loving someone else yet when one loves her self too much she is called selfish and arrogant. She is called undeserving of love accepted in some cases.
But do I even love myself?
I find myself thinking everyday that I would be the happiest if I die today. I would gladly open my arms to death and ask them what took them so long. Is it really love if death sounds sweeter than living?
What is love? Do I love myself? Can I love somebody else?
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When you love something, you would do anything for it to be happy.
So love yourself.
Burn down the world if it makes you feel better.
Peace, love, potatoes
❤️❤️❤️
ReplyLove is the desire to see growth. Be a person, place or thing. Growth can mean different things to different people and that perception can even skew and become warped.
The notion of "I love you" can mean several different things. It can be familial, romantic, friendly or an illusion all together.
If I say I love you, I mean it in a way that reflects your humanity. That you are one and the same, just as I am. That you have your own understanding of reality within this experience.
Many people think of love as this ultimate form of happiness, but the truth is that love requires sacrifice. It requires that boundaries be crossed and walls be destroyed.
It requires connection and individuality all in the same. To be your own, but also to be someone else's. Be it a child/family member, a friend or a lover.
We are instinctively led to love those closest to us in most cases, because there is normally that bond of connection. Through blood, sweat and tears. Through heartache, pain and discomfort.
Love is the willingness to accept what is, but still dream of potential. Be it watching your child grow up, your friendship bloom, your lover accel whatever it may be.
There are several forms of love, question being which one are you trying to identify?
Is it a love for a person, place or thing? Is it passion, desire or heat? Is it connection, detachment or understanding?
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