The thing that makes love so special is the husband remembering his's wife's dream is to write her own book, so for every birthday he'd give her a new journal, writing techniques book and her favorite tea.

Love is so special that a couple will spends tons of money to celebrate finding someone to live the rest of their life with.

Love is special because it is an emotion and humans are full of them.

Humans need emotion. Like how we need happiness and love. Simple as loving ourselves.

So... what is love? That is a pretty deep question with a surprisingly simple answer.

I used to think hate was the opposite of love, but after a lot of thought, years of experience growing a large family of happy, healthy humans, and spreading love to those in my life I care about, I have come to a different conclusion.

The opposite of love isn't hate... it is selfishness.

At its core, love is simply caring for someone else's happiness more than we do for our own. It is very important that we like, appreciate, and value ourselves, but pure love is pure selflessness.

It is sad that there are so many for whom external expressions of love—saying "I love you," giving gifts, performing publicly recognized sacrifices—are selfish acts that are usually driven by fear of loss or pain. These people often use love to secure their own happiness, security, or gratification.

That isn't love; it is a blend of desire and need.

Love is hugging someone who is sad.

Love is helping a neighbor who has fallen down get back on their feet.

Love is a guiding hand that helps a child learn to navigate life.

Love is sharing a meal with a hungry stranger, though you will be left hungry.

Love is expressing admiration when feeling ambivalence, because it benefits another.

Love is volunteering time and energy when tragedy strikes.

Love is an anonymous gift that brings joy.

Love is magic.

I learned long ago that love is the one thing that grows when given away. For every ounce of love you give, you get two back in return. Love comes from a self-sustaining reservoir that cannot be run dry, if it is given away in purity. Selflessness is at the root of true love lie.

The Beatles had a hit song in the 1960's that claimed "in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." This isn't correct though. In the end, the love you take exceeds the love you've given away, many fold.

There is only one drawback to love. Sooner or later, deep love becomes deep loss. If we turn the coin of love over, we find grief on the flip side. Caring for anyone or anything carries the seed of eventual pain. As humans, we are transitory creatures who exist in the here and now for a very limited amount of time. Luckily, the power of love transcends that brief span, existing even after we are gone.

When all is said and done, love is the only thing that truly matters.

if love be but a dream, let me never wake

when my heart overflows, let me give freely of it

at the end of my journey, let me be remembered for love

may the love I've given, exceed the pain I've caused

thus will be measured my soul

-----------------------------

© 2023 - dustygrein

Love's in the way you paint when you've drunk too much coffee

It's in the way you scrub the stove when you need a moment

It's the way the kitchen gets filled with the scent and sound of nostalgic Italy when you're happy

It's in the way you check on me even when sleep-taking

It's in the way you giggle at the slightest touch

Love's in the way you love cupid's mark on the human face

Love's in the way details ground my love for you

“So what’s your favorite part?” I asked him one night after the chores were done and the folks had drifted off to sleep. We were in a room to ourselves, and once we heard the snoring from our parents in the next room, we knew it was O.K. to talk about anything.

“My favorite part of what?” he asked me.

“Of a woman,” I answered impatiently—as if he didn’t know what I was asking. After all, women made up the default thought process that rambled through any young man’s mind at rest. Men could start any conversation with any vague unreferenced question, and unless anything else were specified, by default it meant it was about women.

“My favorite part?” he repeated thoughtfully. He paused a long time before answering. “Her smile,” he said. “There is nothing more beautiful, more inviting, more endearing, more provocative, more exciting, than a woman’s smile meant for you.”

“But not all women have one all the time,” I argued. “Sometimes you have to wait a really long time to get one.”

“Exactly, which is why it’s so special. It’s presenting a soft side to someone, submission, an open window on the soul that begs you to climb in.”

He then went on to explain, putting it much more delicately, of course, that when it came to the oneness between man and woman, all most men ever thought about were the other lips of a woman, but it was the pair that smiled that said it all to a man. I guess he was right, but being the type of guy I was, I always wanted a smile from those other lips. That was me—using the wrong head to think about the wrong lips. And for sure wanting to climb in whether I was invited or not.

As I was walking down the street the other day, I noticed the following sentence written on the sidewalk in big white block letters:

LOVE IS A VERB.

That made me smile and think yes, yes it is.

Yes, it is also a noun: deep affection. But, for that phrase to actually have more substance than the breath you expel upon saying I love you, there must be actions to give it weight. To give it meaning. Love cannot live in words alone if they are not to fade away to nothingness, or worse, twist and rot in the absence of actions or in the face of actions that put lie to the words.

What those actions might be, that demonstrate that love, are myriad and multitudinous...and quite personal to each individual.

For me, it is bear hugs. It's the words said every day, multiple times a day. It is standing on the porch waving as a loved one drives away. It's baking someone's favorite dessert, preparing homecooked meals. It's listening, accepting those you love as they are while encouraging them, supporting them to be their best selves. It's compromising. It's remembering things that are important to your loved one. Doing things for and with your loved one.

Sometimes it's sacrificing - time, energy, money, sleep for your loved one.

Nurtured, it will grow and strengthen. Blossom. Evolve.

Limited to words belied by actions - or inaction, it ceases to be love.

What is love?

It’s

butterflies in the tummy

heart pounding, hands trembling

I want to spend my life

looking into your eyes;

It’s

holding hands without

chaining a soul –

glorying in being together

being one

while respecting that we are two;

It’s

wanting someone else’s happiness

as much as – or more – than your own;

It’s

a difficult balance

of compromise

understanding

agreeing and

agreeing to disagree;

It’s

giving up the last piece of your favorite pie

because it is also your loved one’s favorite;

It’s

showing up

even when you would rather stay in bed;

It’s

cooking dinner, doing laundry, mowing the grass

taking out the garbage, cleaning the toilet

washing dishes, food shopping;

It’s

working hard

working through

working together

because

your love

is worth

the effort;

As time passes

the years fly by

the life you share

is a living testament

to the fleeting

goosebumps

and sweaty hands

that fade with time -

buried

under the daily grind

the stresses imposed

by existence -

but which find a way to surface

now and again

if only you look

and remember

what is love.

I used to...

I did

I was...

Something in your hair

Something in the air

Something in your stare...

Heat

Touch

Don't let me go

I just want to hold you...

One more time

Please don't go

Love, in my opinion, is spending time together with someone you love, platonically or romantically. It can be as simple as watching a movie together, or it can be taking a stroll around the park. Whatever it is, spending time together shows you care enough about each other to make time in your day to hang out.

Love, though a small four letter word, once upon a time had my attention. Not 'cause I really

understood it, actually this was a time when I didn't. Maybe you were once like me, having wondered, what exactly makes love so grand that every individual big and small desperately craves it again and again, even me? Why is that so? Something I used to ask myself.

Of movies that I've watched and songs that I've heard, love takes a bashing 'cause they say their hearts hurt because of it: "Maybe it's better not to have love at all!" My opinion, one of the saddest lines ever spoken.

But is that what love truly is?!

Just something that comes then goes, and leaves nothing but hurt? Alas! I found it, my search for an answer comes to an end.

An expression of love may be receiving gifts, and the hugs and kisses and the "I love you"

statements too. But that's not the whole of it, the essence of what love is, truly. Love is patient and kind, rejoices with the truth. Also it encompasses self-sacrifice, loyalty and trust in their entirety. Now, you see it like I do... love is action! Honest action! That's the truth, I was dying, as the saying goes, to tell you.

The Oxford dictionary defines love as "an intense feeling of deep affection." It's a clear and concise definition, but it's been put into layman's terms. Anyone who has been in love understands that it's hard to just isolate love solely to the word affection. Lean closer to your computer screen, glance up, and remember that last time you were infatuated by someone, obsessed with them. When was the last time you couldn't get someone out of your head?

What's the first thing your body does?

It feels.

The only thing comparable to love is a drug because it's all about how it makes you feel. Saying "I love you" is a plea for affection, gift-giving is a way to show love or appreciation, and non-verbal expressions are forms of silent intimacy. But experiencing and expressing love is a combination of all love languages. The moments of bliss that result are what make it feel special.

It's the

psychology

of our

physiology

hieroglyphed

in the odd

symmetry

of the heart

ventricled,

left-right;

The yen

you I you

fine line

that somehow

defines though

not necessarily

pares apart;

The reflection

of the self borne

in another's eye

compounded,

and cataract'ed

by hyper thought;

It's the reiki heat

before the meet,

palpable albeit

registering with

static and doubt,

on Internal TV;

It's Life's work,

what empties,

and still fulfills,

dearest sadness

and the mystery,

that keeps.

It's the wordless,

and yet...

We speak.

The Love Language challenge @Evnoia_Emi