Deciding The Category Love Belongs to
As much as I would love to say, heart, his literary brother brain prevents me from doing so. Well, biologically, he is right. So, I am helpless. The heart is an organ which pumps blood throughout thy body, says Google.
Love. It’s the purest emotion. And I am still unclear on the word choice right there. Why is it pure? Why can’t it be the most beautiful one? Why can’t it be the most emotional one? I am finding it extremely difficult to adjust with pure.
Well, as a Science student, let me consider the scientific aspect of pure. A pure substance is something that contains only one type of particles, again says Google. And upon derivating, we can conclude that it might not hold anything else but love. No hatred. No anger. No distress. No sadness. Nothing else but love. Now that makes some sense.
But now, as a human, let me consider the experience side of love. I have found most of my friends to be lovers. Yes, I am a teenager. And quite wonderfully, I found a mixture of emotions in every one of them. So, Science seems to collide with Psychology here. Now, this is taking forever. So let’s try to conclude, shall we not?
So, we have considered various aspects of love. And each one of those gave us different answers. So, let’s conclude that love is related to a very famous expression in Mathematics. It is not defined. More correctly, it is for you to find.
#nonfiction #opinion
l o v e
love comes from the vast space,
the ever-expanding sky,
the infinite universe
love is the element
that you never see
on the charts
love is a poisonous gas
that portrudes from dying stars
love makes its way
into the oxygen,
affecting unsuspecting victims
nobody is safe
from the toxins
love is as old
as the first living thing
as the first beating heart
as the first “I love you”
love is not meant to be understood
love is not a human concept
love is beyond mere earth
love comes from
everything and anything;
as infinite and impure as the universe itself,
as old as the first dying star
Love came from
I love you, I said
Where your love came from? he asked.
From where? What should I say?
From bottom of my heart?
From my mind?
From my brain or every cells in my body?
Dunno. Where it came from acutally.
I looked at his eyes.
It doesn’t matter, I just love you.
It DOES matter. He emphasised.
Does it?
Okay, fine. Forget it. I sighed.
He smiled, then embraced me.
Hey, I love you too. He whispered into my ear.
I pulled him away.
Now where YOUR love came from, I shouted.
He smiled again.
I NEED THE ANSWR, I screamed.
Wanna know that.
My love, it came from you. Not at the very first galance.
But day after day, little by little it came from you.
I love you because the love I want it came from you.
CAME FROM ME? That doesn’t make sense.
He pinched my cheek. That does.
Love came from the persons or things that make us to fall in love with them.
If love came from my self, I would’ve love anything.
But it doesn’t work like that.
For me, love came from YOU.
My boy
My boy didn’t smell right. Usually, he smelled like the dirt we rolled in sometimes when we played ball in back of the house, or like the trees in the forest down the road. Or whatever he was eating and sneaking to me under the table. But, he hadn’t wanted to run and play with me for a while, though. And he was only eating some water my lady fed him from a bowl. He used to run everywhere, with me chasing circles around his feet. Then, he stopped getting out of bed.
They took him away one day. He was gone a long time. I went to the window and the garden gate so many times before they finally brought him home. My man was carrying him and my lady kept saying, “down” when I tried to jump up to lick my boy’s face. When they put him in our bed, I leapt up and that’s when the smell hit me. What was going on with my boy? I even had to snuggle my head under his hand, ’cause he couldn’t lift it. He smiled a little as he said, “hey, Zeus, hey buddy,” but then he just closed his eyes and went to sleep. So, I did, too.
We did a lot of sleeping. Every now and again, I would wake up to see my lady or my man next to the bed watching us, water leaking from their eyes. They would stroke me and say, “good boy, Zeus.” I don’t know why since I was just lying there with my boy, sleeping, waiting for him to smell right again. But I would wag my tail a little and lick the water on their faces.
Then one day, he no longer smelled funny. He didn’t smell at all. And somehow, I knew that my boy wouldn’t be rolling in the dirt with me anymore.
