Love?

It's defined as a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person & as a sexual passion or desire. Biblically, its the existence of all things wonderful and the absence of selfishness and sin.

In this world, in the present day, its just an overused term that keeps insecure people comfortable. When the term "love" flies from our lips during casual exchanges or after 3 weeks of dating, it loses its precious essence and rarity.

I'm not cupid's assassin, but I am relentlessly real. And I know that there are days when I say " I love you" without connecting my heart to the valve that leads to my lips. To be frank, the words escape me. I am a habitual lover. I don't need a good reason to tell someone I love them. I don't have a dating timeline. Sometimes, saying "I love you" is easier than admitting that there is actually a lack of passion present. I think people sometimes say "I love you" when they run out of other, more original, things to say to each other. Love is often a form of comfort.

There was a time, I think, when love made people brave. Love wasn't always synonymous with safety/security. I think that love and passion were once cousins, but now love seems to resent passion altogether. In an attempt to clarify, I'll present an example. People who get married vow to love each other. People who've been in relationships for a considerable amount of time say "I love you" at the end of every phone conversation.

But those people, statistically, are often among the most unhappy individuals on earth. They talk about lacking excitement and variety. They talk about how redundant their days are. They seek fulfillment in other areas in order to substitute the inevitable boredom.

Love is like a nightclub that no one wants to wait in line and pay for. Everyone just goes on "free before 12" night to enjoy whatever easy perks are available. Love is like a ditch and no one is interested in falling in it. Members of my generation just carefully step around it, avoiding it and its exhaustion at all costs.

I wish that we could all start saying "I passion you." But that would be ridiculous. I've used "love" like an arrow for most of my life. I penetrate everyone with it, hoping to put a spell on an innocent recipient. But spells don't last forever...

The way I feel now can't be verbalized. I feel something magical but I can't define it. Don't want to. But I know that it isn't love. Because love has a dry connotation. There's nothing safe about what I'm feeling...nothing guaranteed or predictable. My heart stops beating sometimes, I'm sure of it. My palms get itchy, my mouth gets dry, my face gets red, and my tummy hosts a party of obese butterflies. I want to call it something. I want to name this feeling. But love? No. I wouldn't dare. You can find that anywhere. It's no longer rare and exceptional. It's overused and undervalued.

I'm certain that I'm experiencing something that is bigger than love. And though I can't find it in the dictionary, I know that it's real. And raw. Love might just be a box that I dance on top of. I don't want to be in it. I'd rather have something other people can't understand or label.

You can keep love. Enjoy it. Indulge in it. Pretend to be fulfilled. I'll be up here, chillin on my high horse...keeping it real.