Love.
Love is illusive.
Some people say you wouldn't know Love if it walked up to you and hit you in the face.
But that's just the thing: Love wouldn't hurt me. Love would whisper in my ear to do small, almost insignificant, things for them, Love would turn me into a hopeless romantic before Love hurt me.
Love is blind.
You walk into Love with a blindfold on.
Fear in your eyes but hope in your heart.
Your mind says
"No! Turn back, only bad things come from darkness!"
But your heart pushes you forward: your heart shoves you into the abyss that is Love.
You are a puzzle piece, and Love will rip you apart and try to fit you with the wrong piece.
Then Love will leave entirely: Love will disappear without a trace.
But Love will always come back, Love will come back with glue and tape and Love will wipe the tears from your face.
Love will hold your hand and watch your favourite movie and sing you your favourite song.
Love will take hours out of their day to fix you and put you, the puzzle piece, back together.
Your picture might be unfamiliar, you might look like you're from a completely different puzzle.
But that's okay.
Change is okay.
And as soon as you start realizing that, you start painting your own puzzle piece, your own picture.
That's when you start loving yourself.
That's when you start loving what you have become, that's when you start living, truly living.
Living without standards.
Without unfair expectations.
And that's when you find your matching puzzle piece.
Your Love.
* * *
Bella had written this in second grade, but even so, it had such significance in her life. "Love" had impacted her and her parents life so much. It tore them apart and brought together. It
