Lately, I’ve been thinking so much about “love”.
And guess what I’ve decided?
I have no idea what love is. I know what it looks like when I see my parents, when I read the love letters between my grandparents, and in the books I savour. I know it can’t be measured and I know it can’t be understood by anyone else who isn’t “in” love.
Is it the couple on the street who are 22 and holding hands in the sunshine? Is it the little girl and boy on the playground that chase eachother in circles? Is it one of my good friends who finally worked up the courage to ask how the boy he (yes, HE) has been crushing on? Is it only for the 90 year olds who have survived for years and years through every downfall? Is it only for the married and committed? Is it only for those who have experienced tragedy and hardships together?
OR is it in fact a moment? Can it be a moment? A moment that takes your breath away and gives it back in the same instant that makes you feel completely and absolutely alive? Is it a moment that you feel more yourself than you ever have in your entire life and like there isn’t a place in the world that could amount to where you’re standing?
Is it feeling fantastically inspired and like with that one person by your side, nothing is impossible. The rest of the world becomes less of a mountain to climb and more of a playground to enjoy and smile.
Can love be young? Young and naiive?
What do you think? Because I am clueless.