Definition Of Love

What a confusing and complex thing “love” is, how it is so easy and yet so difficult to fully understand and wrap our minds around. It is both an action, and an essence; It is omnipresent, and it never ceases, even after our souls have been long released from this realm of physical existence, love in itself never vanishes. Love is both a blessing and a curse if one truly thinks about it. The anguish and pain of coming to love someone, only knowing that someday they will, or could no longer be alongside you, but up in the heavens above. The pain, the sorrow one feels at the mere thought of it alone wrenches our heart’s to the brim with dread and grief. On the other end of the scale, love is something that brings immense joy to one’s life, and

Even as I write this, one particular person comes to my mind. It is a woman who has faced many of life’s hardships, a woman who has gone through unspeakable pain and anguish; A woman that was knocked to the ground one too many only to get back up time and time again. Her radiance, as gentle as a lamp, yet as sharp as a razor. This woman is my mother, someone I am proud to call my best friend. She is the person I respect and adore the most in this world. I respect her not only for her kind heart, perseverance, and sage wisdom, but I also respect the immense love and respect she shows to me, herself, and others. She is a person who does not judge, and does not envy. She praises and smiles at others success, and feels saddened by one’s failures. She is what I would consider the embodiment of genuine goodness, acceptance, and love. All that is good in this sometimes cruel

She looks back at me and smiles with nothing but warmth. This warmth, her love, envelops both my heart and soul. I smile back with just as much warmth. It is unspoken, for there are no words to be said. She looks at my brother with just as much adoration, but he is too aloof to take notice. My brother, my sweet brother. So innocent in a way, but at the same time so distant and aloof. Despite this, and despite our occasional trivial arguments that most siblings do, and despite his many flaws, I still care for and love him very much, and I know he cares for me just as much, even if he would most likely never admit it.

The inside jokes we tell one another, the many nights sitting, watching our television shows together. I smile inwardly when he howls in laughter, his breath wheezing and face turning cherry-red from the laughter. I laugh too, but not at the show, but at the fact of how easily amused he is. It is moments like this, between me and my brother, that makes me realize how important he is to our family, and how much I love him. I have only told him “Love you” maybe once in my whole entire life, but I feel that he knows how much he is cherished, by both myself and my