I Believe In Love
I believe in love, in its undeniable ability to save the world. It is the flame that illuminates the light in the dark. It cannot be grasped but its warmth can be felt, a heat that livens. In its absence, hate and anger thrive, threatening to shake the soul apart.
My parents taught me to believe. They showed me through their own love. They met in Texas. He was a rugged plumber, and she was the sheriff’s daughter. She first noticed him by his Northern accent and his clear blue eyes. He says that he will always remember that blue dress she was wearing the first time he saw her, the one with the little white flowers. Every time he tells about their first encounter, his eyes glaze over in memory, a loopy grin spread across his aged face. They fell in love, and he carried her away from Texas, away from everything she knew, just to be together.
However, when I was two, my parents divorced, splitting our home in half. It was for the best. Despite their love, personalities raged against one another, leaving the family in chaos. Now I have two homes, and their love remains. They talk several times a week over the phone, their dependence on each visible. I can see it in my father’s eyes when he talks about their friendship, about their past, and about their present. They are the only family each other has here, and in the cold of the north it gives them comfort, gives me comfort. Love does not end. It grows, never to be extinguished. Even after twenty-two years, it can still bear warmth to those willing to feel.
Without love, their love, I wouldn’t be here. I have to believe in it. I’m a romantic and an idealist. I refuse to let cynicism and doubt plague my beliefs. I love to love. It makes me feel alive. If I lived in a world without love, I would not be able to stand upright beneath the pressures of life. I know that I need it, the world needs it, that without it I would live a meaningless existence.
Love is something felt in the heart. Despite better judgment, the heart cannot be ignored, thrown aside. It pounds, threatens to burst with all that love. There is no thought. It surges through the body, feels as if it will blossom and break the skin. It is almost painful, but without it, there can be hope for the future. For with love, people can see that there does exist good in the world. It is a window through which hope can be seen, a hope that life is more than mere existence and death. Love shows the potential of life and the power of trust, trusting to let love in with a loopy grin.
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