I once thought I knew love. Beyond the childish dreams of a crush, a smitten moment of delight in look, a driving passion toward the woman in such linens that the eyes would follow forever if given time. Actually, in analyzing love, I have realized over the course of my life there is far more depth to the reality of such an emotion beyond physical or even sensual attribute. To me today, love means an overwhelming sense of beauty and regard in every aspect of an energy that attributes itself with such is, sweet mystique.
Yet, there is a responsibility in love, oft times forgotten in the search for a passion once felt, once experienced, once known in the eyes of two lovers. When one does search, and feels the loss in the other in her or his glance, there seems a turmoil in knowing when and how this departure must matter. The element of denial is so strong to cause a lover to live their remaining lives in disbelief, imagining only the wonder of that soul sharing enriching beauty when love spoke so candidly from the lips of each other. Rather now, the aching of loss, becomes a certain illusion that one might fight to the bitter end to find peace. And yet, if there is love, than the fight must assuredly cease.
Or is that battle won when two people, who expressed love, who once when glancing toward each other’s lives, did indeed suggest such attraction was meant to be. When such is the magic of love, do two people suddenly allow society to let them completely forget that once concept of a yearn, of an embrace, of the stars at night that spoke to one another, the breeze in mid-afternoon that sang their song, the melting snow of a picturesque morning in sunlight, all symbolic of a certain elegance we carry in our lives to support the confusion inherent with the human condition.
Oh I did love, I knew love, I felt love, I did share love, and today … I do so, I love.