I SHOULD BE DOING WORK. instead, i wrote a whole ass piece on love (i think?? not v sure where this one went, i havent reread it). i was thinking of making this part of a series (like reasons to stay alive?? kind of) but i dunno, it feel like this entire collection is kinda that. maybe i will, maybe i dont. we shall see. all in all though, im highkey stressed, so this was a lil reliever to write, and i feel like i had a point when i began but then i rlly just forgot, so just roll w it. please. love y'all! (and now it's time for hw again, urgh) do good, be well. <3
L O V E .
Love.
The subject of many songs and tales. Wars and peace, all over love. The thing that makes us human - ugly beautiful creatures who are capable of building so much and tearing it all in seconds, just as well.
Love is the story that resonates with every step you take. Love is so deeply embedded in everything we do, we begin to lose sight of it, forget its meaning. For some, love is a weakness, a chink in the armour that exists to exploit. And it does. Love exploits people until there is nothing left of them but bone. But love also builds and cements and strengthens. Love also creatures and blooms and connects. Love is an emotion of vulnerability, a paradox of a thing which is both weakness and strength itself.
But the love we most often hear is the love of epics. Of lovers strewn apart, clawing and fighting to get back to one another. Or unrequited affections that wrack a person into shambles. We write songs and poems and stories about those who always missed each other, two stars not meant for a collision course, and the stars who did just that - collide and explode. And love can be epic and enduring, brief and fleeting, almost there, there too much.
Love is all of those things, but it does not have to be.
It does not have to be a bodily hunger, a desire that the mind creates and the eye sates. Love does not have to be a explosion of colour or a cacophony of sound, fireworks that spark every time hands brush. It does not have to be smoldering gazes and moments dripping with sexual tension.
It can be, but it does not have to be.
Love can be the soft tug of appreciation felt towards everything. Towards the sun that shines on your face, and the rain that cleanses your skin. Love can be giving a waddling toddler in the store a fond look, eyes glimmering for a child you don't even know and likely will never see again. Love can be hiking to the top of a trail and looking out, soul splitting open at the pure beauty of the world before you, love filling you until you overflow.
Love is a vulnerable emotion, but it is also an overwhelming powerful one.
Love is holding onto a dear one's hand in the hospital, fighting tears yet somehow gaining strength, because love is the solidarity that comes from knowing this is a being who adores you and who you adore. A person who you love and cherish and never want to let go of, because love makes us love on, and love is what makes us realize we sometimes have to let go. Love is crying over loss and pain and feeling loss and pain, aware that love is a lasting emotion and it is hard for it to ebb away entirely.
It changes though.
Love changes people and love itself can change. It's like water, taking shape of the container that you put it in, but always constant. Love is love, and that will never change. What shape it is in, can.
Love is not inherently sexual. It can be but that does not mean it is.
Love is family - the people who you hate and scream at and can't stand and cherish and laugh with and everything. That is love. Messy and confusing yet overwhelming and powerful and vulnerable.
Love is writing. Or snowboarding or singing or baking or whatever it is that makes you feel at home. It's the feeling of rightness, of peace, of relief, of emotion so profound you want to cry. It's the feeling of safety, of a deep sigh of contentment or a smile that splits open your face it's so wide.
Love is the curve of a smile, the divots in skin that change with emotions, tumultuous as the tides. Of the shape of muscle and fat and all the things that make our bodies so imperfect and wonderfully human. It's the texture of hair and the brightness of eyes and the touch of hands and softness of lips and the strength of bodies and softness of soul.
Love is beauty and appreciation. And while that can be physical, it does not have to be.
Love spills out from our hearts into the world, painting life by numbers, creating a vivid masterpiece. Love surrounds everything, flowing over everything.
Love is not inherently romantic, though it can be. Love is not inherently sexual, though it can be. And whatever type of love it is, that doesn't decrease or increase its validity in any way.
And the wonderful thing of life, is that you can love everything but still acknowledge that things need to change. You may love your life and the people and things in it, but that doesn't mean that you have to sit and do nothing. You can love something or someone or some place, and realize that they are wrong and you do not agree with that thing or person or place. Love is not a conditional thing. Love is infinite and replenishment. And love, like water, changes. It ebbs and flows and change shape, steadfast yet flexible.
And most importantly, it is such a bullshit thing to say, 'save your I LOVE YOUs', because there is no need to do that. Love is one of the resources that humans have that is truly infinite. There will never be no vacancy in your heart, because that's not how it works. Love everyone and everything, or don't; you are the only one to judge how you hand out your love. But be aware that time on earth is limited and you got so much love to give. To others. to yourself.
And love is hard too, the same way that it's easy. Love is different for everyone. Love is different for the same person on different days. Loving is not always easy, and that's alright too. The human heart and soul and mind are very beautiful things, and in my opinion, it's very hard to truly break them. But all adjustment takes time, and our heart and soul and mind know better than anything else, how to protect itself. And that is valid. So is loving everything and anything that comes in your way in a blink of an eye. So is any mix of the two, or something completely else. Love is valid.
And while life is a fickle and short and ugly fucking mess of a thing, love is one of the things that makes it worth living.
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YOU ARE READING
ab initio, ad infinitum
Random"from the beginning, to infinity." or me slapping down words on paper when i feel something and pretending i had an objective, all while using too many curse words. //ran. will sporadically update. very excessive use of expletives. © garggie.
