Love, Active Unspoken Verb
Trying to explain it without words in the way.
Nothing in this world ever ignites with more hope and languishes in more disillusion as often as love does.
Still, somehow, people seem to believe there’s nothing easier in the world than to love somebody.
Again and again, we let ourselves fall for it, but “happily ever after” hasn’t happened for anyone yet.
Love is the child of freedom, born to bring profit only to the soul.
Immature love
When I was younger, I used to think love is selfish.
I love you.
Your smile is unearthly. It makes me forget all my worries.
Your eyes are the bluest summer sky. They make my rains go away.
Your lips are the softest peach. There’s nothing like it I ever tasted, and I can’t have enough of it.
You’re also smart. Talking to you often feels to me better than love-making.
Did I mention you’re kind too? I love how you take care of me and all the small things you do even though you don’t have to.
Your wit and humor? Make me jolt with such hard laughter that my cheeks and belly hurt in a way I never thought I would enjoy.
Your love, your strengths, and even your flaws (which I would deliberately overlook) were all about me, me, me, and I, I, I.
Would I have loved you if you weren’t that beautiful, kind, and funny (to my standards) and if you wouldn’t have made me feel in all those ways?
That was immature love — I need you, so I love you.
Mature love
I’ve come to meet mature love later on — I love you, so I need you.
I’ve judged, and I decided. Love wasn’t a feeling anymore. So for me, today, love is knowledge, responsibility, respect, and care.
It starts as a feeling, but it can only last giving.
When you love, you give something that is alive inside of you.
You may give curiosity, joy, or sadness. You may give understanding or a kick in the shins.
You may give humor. You may give hope. But you give. And most importantly, you give unconditionally.
As Erich Fromm used to say, unconditional love is both fantastic and terrific.
It is fantastic because you don’t have to do anything to enjoy it. It is terrific because you cannot do anything to enjoy it.
If it’s there, you’re lucky. If it’s not, you’re powerless in making it available to you.
“Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.” ― Erich Fromm
What is love to me?
I guess I just came here to answer this question without too many words in the way.
Love is a bird allowed to fly.
A child encouraged to dream.
A well with a full spring.
A match with a spark.
A throne with a king.
A song that sings.
It’s something you choose to support, putting in the work and the faith. An active unspoken verb. Without words in its way.
Thank you for making it to the end. Sometimes, the words in the way keep us going 😊
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