My Thoughts on Love

I was reading for about an hour a book I bought in Sanford--Webster's Dictionary of Relevant Quotations. I read a lot of quotes about various subjects, but the quotes that are stuck in my subconscious buzzing around like bees in my head are the ones written about love. I agree with most of the philosophies expressed, but reading them made me wonder what ultimate concept of love is. What is my philosophy, my belief? I'm still thinking about one passage in particular a quote by Romain Rolland, "One makes mistakes; that is life. But it is never quite a mistake to have loved."

I'm not quite sure if I agree--part of me does but then I've only truly loved one person--only given my whole being--every piece of me to one man. He could crush my heart--rip it to pieces--but still I love him. He is the first person I ever said I loved--without the obligation of being related. I read all of these famous people's thoughts and philosophies and I realized that any one can love another, cherish another and devote one's being solely to another's happiness. One can feel deep love but no one will ever truly know what love is as a whole. And what's more some one can say something to their love--go down a whole long list of complimentary things, attributes, great personality traits--but even after all of those things are said--some one can never actually pinpoint the exact reason; exact cause that makes their heart swell with love for that one special person. Because one never really knows the exact reason.

I mean I like my lover's laugh and smile, his beautiful eyes that change from deep chocolate to amber depending on his mood, the feel of his work-worn hands that turn to velvet on my skin, the profound peace I find lying in his arms after making love, his warm flesh on mine when I hold him, his worldly charm coupled with his dry wit, the way his brow furrows and his gaze deepens when he's immersed in thought, his laid back nature coupled with his ability to handle anything that comes his way, how he lights up when he talks about his mother and childhood memories, the enthusiasm he has when telling a story, how peaceful he looks when he's asleep a slight curl of a smile on his lips, the way he wraps one arm around me when he holds me at night, how he makes me feel safe, the way his voice turns soft and loving sometimes when he talks to me, his drive and ambition, the fact that no other man could ever measure up to him in my eyes. How simply one of a kind he is, how he puts up with me when I'm ill and cranky, how he puts every drop of love into what he cooks for me, and how my heart beats faster even when I just think about him. But even I don't know the exact reason I love him.

I don't think love is truly meant to be understood just enjoyed. Treasured while it is shared and remembered fondly when it is gone.