——— Love.
love, i think, is abstract. it changes with experience and who you’re loving. if i were to talk of the love i have for myself, i would tell you of all the songs that make up all the little contradictory aspects of myself. if i were faced with the topic of love for family, i would sob into your chest instead. if i were to talk of love with my lover, i would tell you of the daylight that comes after the initial night — i would tell you of two messy dreamers striving for a better tomorrow; in which they can make their own voices heard.
love, i think, is everything and nothing all at once. i think it makes up everything about this forsaken world. love, i think, transcends time for a reason. everything on this earth is either about love or the absence of it: i am sure of this.
i think love is having a warm house with a nice café or library somewhere close by and an old playground right across the street. i think love is playing a game with your friends and coming to the revolutionary realization that you are as stupid as they are. i think love is finding a song that makes you happy and sharing the joy of it with someone else. i think love is buying a new book and the first thing you do is stuff your face in it and inhale that earthen fragrance. i think love is coming home to your lover and making corny jokes while you help them prepare dinner. i think love is when that one girl falls asleep on your shoulder and you stop something as simple as breathing so she doesn’t wake up from that moment of unabashed bliss. i think love is being content with the true simplicity of it all.
love, to me, is the bittersweet action of simply feeling.
and may it continue, evermore.
