Love

This is what I think about Love.

That it is like two golden threads coming together and twisting themselves around each other. That each thread remains strong and defined as a solitary thing – but, in the act of entwining, they become more solid and form something separate and beautiful in its own right.

That it is like a glittering shower of images and sounds and feelings. The side of a face. The breath of a sigh. The shadow cast over a pillow. The stroke of fingers. The sound of your name.

That it is safe, like an arm wrapped tightly around you – and, at the same time, terrifying because it makes the world paper thin and sharply intense.

That it is precious, like a gleaming stone found in a desert of sand –

And that it is not having the stone that is precious; it’s just having the knowledge that it’s there.

That it is light, like laughter.

That it requires courage – because to love comes with the risk of to lose – and consistency and curiosity, a desire to keep knowing someone and to keep exploring yourself.

That we are oh so incredibly lucky if we, for whatever random reason and by whatever random means, manage to find someone who we love and who loves us equally back.

 

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