Defining the indefinable, explaining the indescribable. It feels like a tune that is stuck in your head but you just can’t find the right words to sing it. It’s like a beautiful picture which others can’t see and you just can’t, even after all the efforts, explain. It leaves you breathless and the desperation to show them what you have seen is immeasurable.
This is how it feels like when people ask me about my opinion about love. What saddens me is how media and a huge chunk of people have associated ‘love’ with ‘sexual’ feelings, that it almost sounds like an abuse if you ever happen to use that word.
No narrow minded people you need to stop. Metaphors are crazy and similes are striking. It’s the warmth of milk on cold night, the coolness of mint for a thirsty throat. It’s like the breeze on a hot day, the breath you catch when you’ve ran for a mile. It is essential and inescapable. You will find it but it often appears in disguise. Like anger and rage it isn’t so direct and expressive. But it is as frequent and as intense.
Maybe it is difficult defining it, but i could tell you where i found it. It’s uncertainty is plausible. It is a life saver. An encounter with love feels like being back at home after a long weary journey. It is in the arms of a mother. There are days which wouldn’t end and nights so sleepless and haunting. After a long suffering when i fall into the arms of my mother i feel, time stops there. And i can always go back to the moment , and i do, whenever i feel i am not blessed enough. If you can find shoulders you can cry your heart on, feeling healed; you have found love. And it is in the eyes of a few people. They believed in me when i didn’t believe in myself. They knew i would rise even when i felt i wouldn’t be alive. It is this feeling that makes life worth living. This feeling of being able to look at ourselves in the mirror and know that we don’t have to be perfect to be loved. Love comes to us even when we don’t love. But it is our refusal of accepting this love that makes us unworthy of it. And by accepting love i mean, giving it back, way more than we received.
Again, I don’t mean to say that sex and love don’t go together. What i mean to say is, we cannot narrow down it’s meaning to it. Because i can’t fail to admit that sometimes a street dog has made me feel more loved than a lot of people related to me have. If you are ready to feel it, it is ready to heal you. Take a deep breath and let the magic in.