Love… It’s
strange and beautiful and often breaks hearts, at one point or other. Yet we
can’t help but throw ourselves into it head first, time and time again. We keep
pining for it, for its warmth and its soft caresses, for the pleasure and the
feeling of being wanted, of being together always.
Love is
different for every person. For every time it assaults a person, even. Because
love is not something you find only once. It’s something you make and form and
agree on, it’s something that can be made and broken, given the right time and
effort. It’s something you make together and therefore it’s different for every
combination of two people. Love might change, even within the same combination
of two people. Because no person doesn't change. Doesn't change as a person
alone, doesn't change as a person within a relationship and doesn't change
because the person is in a relationship. Change doesn't have to be bad. While
one might get up one day and realize that, really, both of you are completely
different from that day, so long or not so long ago, that it all started, you might've
changed together and then, change is good.
On the
contrary, one might get up one day and realize that both of you have changed,
both of you are different from the start, and these two people, these different
people are too different and it doesn't work anymore. It might seem like the
end of the world. It isn't. Love doesn't die. It was never alive.
It might be
described as a phoenix, dying time and time again, and rising up from the
ashes; a new bird, so much alike the old one but a different one all the same.
And so does
love. It might perish, but is never really dead. Because for that different
person, the new person that doesn't fit with the other new person anymore,
there will always be another. Someone who does have the right mold to fit. And
then the phoenix is reborn and starts its life all over again. There is nothing
wrong with that.
Love isn't
necessarily about sex. One can love any person, and any person can love you, and
they can love each other dearly… Yet never even feel any desire to be physical.
Best friends, parents and their children, teachers or hero’s, they can all be
loved in a way that has nothing to do with sex. Such a love has no less value,
no less importance. On the other hand, there can be love without affection,
too. Love without friendship. It’s not the most gentle of loving, but it can be
love indeed.
For me,
love knows no gender. I love, sexually or otherwise, those who are worth loving
and I don’t really mind. For others, love is something bound to one gender, the
man who can only feel appeal to other man, or the woman who can only love other
women as friends, and is only attracted to men, or any other variation thereof.
That’s alright too. It’s all love and it’s all the same and it’s all different
and that? That makes it so beautiful, so desirable.
It hurts
and it’s addicting and it’s so amazingly good when applied right. It’s a drug
I’m happily addicted to. More than anything else though, it’s a risk worth
taking.
