Love is an exquisite ache—a beautiful agony. Love is pleasure and pain and soothing. Sometimes my heart is so replete with love—so thoroughly swollen with tenderness and affection for a friend or member of my family—that it is pleasantly excruciating. I can barely bear it, but I must…I want to.
Love is hard. Love hurts. It opens us to the deepest depths of torment and loss. It removes every layer of armor until only our vulnerabilities are left. It disarms us—often catching us off guard.
When my mother passed away it was an amputation without anesthetic or forewarning. I hurt to the very core of my consciousness. I suffered existence. I tolerated living. My pronounced pain was directly proportional to my massive love. A part of me died with her.
Love is a captivating liberator. It frees us to be ourselves. It opens new territories in our hearts, and can repair the parts that others have left damaged. The love of my parents gave me courage. It planted seeds of self-confidence and self-worth.
Because of the good love I have received from family and friends, I have dared. I have pushed beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone. I have taken a firm stand. I have spoken up.
Love has freed me unto life. It has released me from self-condemnation and doubt. It has eroded my insecurities and facades. It has given me to myself.
Love is a satisfying craving. It consumes and fuels simultaneously. It is the water and the thirst. It is the extinguisher and the fire that burns.
Love goes beyond passion and attraction. Love is more than just the provocative or the dazzling. Love is the hearth, not the strike of the match. Love is persistent like water. It is not just a flash. Love is not lust. Love lasts.
Love is a well-cooked meal—flavored just right. It is that perfect pair of jeans—comfortably worn in—not too loose or too tight.
Love is an unknowable certainty—easy to understand, but impossible to fathom. Love goes too far to be shortsighted. Love is too deep to be shallow.
Love is universal, personal, and unique. It takes everything we have, and yet it is free.
Love is, and love creates. Love gives, and love cultivates. Love is how you know you are home. Love is everything—all of the above.
Love is love.