I feel compelled to talk about love.
I have no idea how to define love. At best, I could tie together a string of metaphors and similes to give some vague analogy of what love is, but no sequence of words or phrases I could come up with would aptly serve to define the term. I throw the word "love" around like it means nothing, but love means everything.
Love is powerful. According to John Lennon, "All you need is love." So, if love is the sole essential component to being, then why can I not define it?
I know what I love: I love my family, I love my friends, I love the outdoors, I love the feeling I get after running, and I love music. Love is inconsistent. The love I have for music is not equatable to the love I have for my friends, and yet, that love is different still from the love I have for my family. There is no limit to what a person can love. I would also venture to guess that there is no limit to how much a person can love, but I have yet to test that theory.
Love is easy; love is hard; love is patient; love is everlasting; love is (insert any adjective here). Love is just about anything a person can imagine. It does not have to make sense, and it does not have to be justified. Love makes people crazy, and love gives people direction. Love can do anything.
Romantic love, one of the most interesting facets of love. I do not claim to have ever been in love. If I have, then it was a disappointment. If I have been in love, then love is not all that I am cracking it up to be. I think love is a feeling that just hits. Love leaves no room for guessing, and love asks no questions. When it is love, it is known.
"It wasn't logic, it was love." -- Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the city
Love sends the reasoning process out the window. Love calls people to action. Acts of love can be irrational, and acts of love can also be beautiful. Personally, I think every act is an act of love. Love decides how people spend their days; love decides it all.
I still have no idea what love is.
I have tried to synthesize my thoughts about love into a discernible pattern, but my view on love is no more clear than it was when I started.
Love is beautiful, and love is magical . . .
Love just is.
(I realize that is an incomplete sentence -- Love makes no sense.)