Perhaps, not what I should write about, given my supposed ways of taking “love” by its horns, literally. Tsk. But turns out I’ve written a lot about it. I suppose it is one of those things you inevitably write about, as there are many things in our lives that is invariably governed by, love.
I do not speak only of the romantic kind of Valentine’s Day love.
Instead, I speak of my love for her, a constant thought in my mind. She, whom I look up to as a friend, a sister (of sorts) and adviser. She looks at me the same way too and even secretly throws a “Mommy” in there.
It is my love for her and her’s for me, that makes me who I am. And my love for him. Such love, is not replicated and knows no words.
I speak of my love for him and for her who while do not occupy my waking thoughts, are with my in my thoughts throughout the day. My love for them would make me want to go drop of cookies and random bits of care (packages).
It is my love for those in plight and those for whom I cannot do anything.
It is also my love for those I’ve loved, but no longer do.
It is also for me to find love (in me) for myself.