Somebody asked me what love is, and I found myself re-evaluating my seemingly sad situation. What IS love? I've spent the better years of my life dodging that question by reasoning out that it cannot be defined, it cannot be described, it cannot be simplified nor contained by mere terms... And although part of that is true, I've missed the realization that we can, in fact, try to dissect love, try to explain it, and at the very least, try to experience it. Because the truth is this worn-out cliche...love is all around us.
It's in every little thing that we fail to notice each day because we let ourselves get too cooped up with the bigger picture.
It's knowing with all certainty that you've found someone you wanna get to know for the rest of your life.
It's the four a.m. calls you receive just for him to let you know he's awake and he's thinking about you.
It's the way his hand always reaches out to brush away the stray strands of hair on your face.
It's him always wanting to grasp your hand in his...always wanting to hold you tight beside him.
Love is acceptance. It's him knowing you like burning your corned beef a little when you cook it, and that you put milk on your rice when you eat it. He thinks it's a little gross, but he adores you for it anyway.
Love is sacrifice. It's you leaving home, swallowing the nostalgia, to show him everything else is worth surpassing.
Love is loyalty. It's him thinking you're the best cook in the world, next to his mom of course, when the truth is all you can do is reheat canned goods and boil water for instant noodles.
Love is about gratitude. It's thanking Life and Fate for all the miseries you went through in the past, for you finally found the reason why you had to go through them all.
Love is about changing and adjusting. It's you stretching your limits, expanding your perceptions, making allowances for failures.
Love is about trust. It's you taking his hand each time you step on to the escalator.
Love is about assurance. It's him telling you it's okay to take that first step...He's not letting you go...Ever.
Love is about having butterflies in your stomach. It's not there all the time, but when it comes you know it's for real, you know it'll always be there from then on...you know it's forever.
And most importantly, love is forgiveness. It's you getting your heart beaten and battered, stepped on and trampled, broken and shattered. And yet at the end of it all, when you are no longer clouded by the pain, you always come home to the simple fact that whatever hurt you go through would never conquer the intensity and the certainty of what you've chosen to fight for every single day that has passed and will pass...and although crying may drain you all the hope and faith you have, and you may be scarred and worn out to the deepest corners of your soul...in the very end of it all, you know that what you have is the real thing. And it's worth all the moments you are left dumbfounded. Or speechless. Or numb. Or terrified. Or lost. Or scared. Or hurt.
It's worth all the questions you've never really had the courage to ask.
It's worth all the times you say you can't define Love... because anyway, you have the proof of its existence right by your side...
It's in every little thing that we fail to notice each day because we let ourselves get too cooped up with the bigger picture.
It's knowing with all certainty that you've found someone you wanna get to know for the rest of your life.
It's the four a.m. calls you receive just for him to let you know he's awake and he's thinking about you.
It's the way his hand always reaches out to brush away the stray strands of hair on your face.
It's him always wanting to grasp your hand in his...always wanting to hold you tight beside him.
Love is acceptance. It's him knowing you like burning your corned beef a little when you cook it, and that you put milk on your rice when you eat it. He thinks it's a little gross, but he adores you for it anyway.
Love is sacrifice. It's you leaving home, swallowing the nostalgia, to show him everything else is worth surpassing.
Love is loyalty. It's him thinking you're the best cook in the world, next to his mom of course, when the truth is all you can do is reheat canned goods and boil water for instant noodles.
Love is about gratitude. It's thanking Life and Fate for all the miseries you went through in the past, for you finally found the reason why you had to go through them all.
Love is about changing and adjusting. It's you stretching your limits, expanding your perceptions, making allowances for failures.
Love is about trust. It's you taking his hand each time you step on to the escalator.
Love is about assurance. It's him telling you it's okay to take that first step...He's not letting you go...Ever.
Love is about having butterflies in your stomach. It's not there all the time, but when it comes you know it's for real, you know it'll always be there from then on...you know it's forever.
And most importantly, love is forgiveness. It's you getting your heart beaten and battered, stepped on and trampled, broken and shattered. And yet at the end of it all, when you are no longer clouded by the pain, you always come home to the simple fact that whatever hurt you go through would never conquer the intensity and the certainty of what you've chosen to fight for every single day that has passed and will pass...and although crying may drain you all the hope and faith you have, and you may be scarred and worn out to the deepest corners of your soul...in the very end of it all, you know that what you have is the real thing. And it's worth all the moments you are left dumbfounded. Or speechless. Or numb. Or terrified. Or lost. Or scared. Or hurt.
It's worth all the questions you've never really had the courage to ask.
It's worth all the times you say you can't define Love... because anyway, you have the proof of its existence right by your side...
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