The Question of Love

Love is such a complicated thing… Not just one single way in which to describe it. Poems, prose, symbols, and yet nothing could ever embody the true meaning – the true feeling of such the emotion! What is it about love that it can never make it enter our left brain completely? Is it simply too powerful of an emotion? Did God simply want us to experience it for ourselves and so made it impossible to capture the true essence of the feeling? Or maybe it could be that love is not just an emotion, but something far more powerful and meaningful, despite its already forceful presence? Maybe love is the embodiment of not only the emotion that we feel, but of life itself and of human nature? The sad thing is…we’ll never know. But one can question, can they not? One can explore all possible reasons why humans could never, cannot, and never will be able to capture the truth of love.

And further questioning about this powerful emotion can lead into: how does one know what love is? How does one find themself in love and know for sure that it is love and not just lust or extreme likeling or preference? What teachs children, especially children without love dominant in their lives, what love is? Has any mother or father ever told their child what love is, except for telling them that they love them? Which could again bring us back to the subject of love being the truth of human nature, in a round-a-bout way. If love was what us humans were, would we not know love as an instinct? Why do we find love as instinctual. And it is not like anything else that is instinctual. It has it own field and genre as being instinct.

Why do we feel love so powerfully for a person at some points and not as powerfully in others? Why does it never leave after it has been established. You can like a person and then not like them any more but you may love a person say as a friend, but once that bond has been made…you’ll always love that person in some way or another, even if you simply are happy by their success or something happy has happened to them. Or feel empathy when something tragic happens. And why is it that we hate? Yes hate is the opposite of love and so we see hate as a bad thing, but in reality isn’t it indifference much more hurtful? If you hate someone, don’t you still care about what they do and what happens to them? Of course not in the same way, but wouldn’t you rather be hated and known, and cared about in even a bad way, than to be unknown and uncared for at all? The ways of the heart are difficult to tell, and forever now I have been obsessed with them.