All the time you are growing up you’re trying to find a definition of what love is, whether through trial and error, or asking those who found it, or by simply monitoring those in love.
One definition that most of the people agreed upon is that love is when you’re sitting with someone, and your heart flutters, and keeps on beating faster and faster. But I’ve acknowledged that the same happens when you’re a meter away from a notorious serial killer with a knife pulled into your way.
They said that love is when someone lays their fingertips on your skin and you cannot seem to catch your breath, but I’ve felt that same way when I was nearly drowning, fighting to catch my breath. A battle I nearly lost.
I demanded another answer, they told me it is like when someone approaches you and tells you that they love you, you feel like a fire raging inside if you. A fire igniting in every part of your body, and numbing all of your senses. That matched the feelings of that spicy Indian curry I tried, and didn’t like. I almost spat fire breaths that day. I was never tolerant for spicy things.
I’ve asked for more definitions of what love is really like, and their last answer was that it is when someone you care about and have feelings for breaks a promise and it shatters your heart to pieces. You feel like an iron fist clutching to your heart, swearing to tear it out, but I could swear that it felt the same when I lost passion in my dream.
After years of researching what love really is and never finding the true meaning, I thought either they lied and love doesn’t exist, or I was too idiotic to understand it. Or maybe I was too confused by their definitions; their non-exclusive definitions. It was until that year, I met the love of my life, and I finally understood that their definitions never conformed to mine.
Love is when you’re with someone you feel mostly grounded with, when your heart beats do not race with your breaths. It’s when your heart beats are in total synchronization with your lover’s, when your hearts beat in rhythm just like one.
It is when you’re raging with fire and someone contains you, putting your fire out and allowing you to breathe continuously without hardship in catching your breath. Love is when you lose your passion for life, for dreaming, and that someone doesn’t stand by and watch as your world collides but rather follows you around trying to pick up the pieces you drop along the way, and perhaps gluing them together again.
It is when you are at your best self, and they boost that to the extreme, but it’s also when you are at your worst self and they keep telling you that it’s okay. They tell you that it’s okay to be fragile and full of self-hatred, because they would never take advantage of those to push your fragility and break you. They would never hate you when you’re hating yourself.
I’ve found out a lot of definitions for love, but only one seemed right for me. Only one seemed to make sense to me. Only one that never confused me.