Something About Love...

12:02:00 AM

I just want to get this out first. I have never thought I would write something like this. But due to the things I must do as a writer, here I am pouring out my thoughts about the ever so famous word; LOVE.

Okay, so.. Hi!

I don't actually know how to begin this post since the topic is so... what's the word again? Sappy? Vulnerable? Touchy? Alright, I have got to stop being sarcastic especially during this post. Okay, here's my best trying to be a decent human being:) Good luck to me...

*I can already feel myself failing on this trying-to-act-decent mission*

Sigh...

So, what is love?


We, people, may know love as a four-letter word. The scariest most beautiful word of all the centuries human kinds have lived and died in. Love is that L-word some people are terrified to say or prove... Love, as we may know it, comes in different shapes and sizes. Love is everybody's favorite abstractness.
According to the Meriam-Webster dictionary, love is a form of strong affection towards someone. Adding up to that, Urban Dictionary states that love is the most spectacular, indescribable, deep euphoric feeling for someone; an incredibly powerful word. To be honest, reading that line scared the whole living daylight out of me. And if you're interested in having the same experience, go ahead and look it up on the site.
With everything being said and blurted out, let's think about it. If love is a strong affection towards someone then--it's going to get so deep--what is this feeling we have for our pets? Or maybe for our neighbor's cat or dog? If love is defined as an indescribable feeling, why do people involve themselves in something that the human minds can't even explain? Why do people like it when they don't know what they're doing, moreover when they have no idea what they're saying? I thought love is supposed to be an incredibly powerful word. If that is so, why do we treat it easily as if it's another piece of our broken puzzle? And if we are so clueless about what love is, why do we dare to give it meanings? Is it our human nature to be somewhat assumptive and highly subjective on something as powerful as love? So, what is love?

What is love... to you?

Before you do a massive research to answer my simple question, let's hear my answer out first. This is me trying to sound and be decent... Keep that in mind.

Love to me is endless. 

Love is a sum of my relationship with God. God is not a someone nor a something and somehow I love him dearly and passionately. That being said, to me love means believing. Believing that there's a substance greater than life that gives life to me. I may not have seen God in person but I believe God exists. And that is never stupid to believe in. So to begin with, love to me means believing.

Loves<3
Love is what makes my family sticks together. Does that mean the families that are broken apart don't experience love? Maybe yes, maybe not. But as far as I know, my family sticks together because there is love. We acknowledge our needs of each other's companies and attention. Through love, we deliver it every single day from the beginning of my parents' first 'talk' with each other until probably the grand kids of my grand kids die. Love keeps my family in one piece. It keeps my annoying little brother at a safe distance from me whenever I'm not in the mood to associate with him. It keeps my mom and dad together long enough to nurture two kids. It keeps the four of us on the same page, loving each other so deeply both in silent and out loud. So, love to me means holding on. Holding on to something or someone we need to live with.

Extended family:)
Love makes finding friends a lot easier. It's funny how love can just appear somewhere between your conversation with a new friend and at that exact moment you'll feel that little click and you just know this person you're talking to is worth so much of your time. Love makes it hard for me to say goodbye to my beloved best friends whom I call my extended family. Love makes them, them and love makes me, me and it never fails to bring out the best of both sides in a friendship or any relationship at all in that matter. Love to me means a 'click', that muted sound of instant fondness. That silent confirmation in your head and in your heart, reassuring you that something or someone belongs in your life either they're some friends or maybe a soulmate. But who am I to talk about soulmate?

Love is the passion I have for education. To me, being educated is something I have to love doing. I've been growing keen on everything about education, knowledge, discovery, even little scientific facts. I need it as much as I need my family. Those things keep my mind and my body healthy. Love is what I feel every time I do a completely new thing. Love is what I feel towards learning things. It's the feeling of wanting to know more, the eagerness of finding out answers to some twisted mystery. It's that excitement I feel whenever a new worth-pondering-over discoveries are being put in the open. It's that desire to answer so many of people's questions, not because I want to sound smart but because I have been mastering my knowledge in that particular topic. Love is that ambition and determination I have within me that makes learning, despite all its pressure and burden, still feels fun and awesome.

Love is my interest in writing and reading. It's that joyful feeling that blossoms the moment my fingers dance through the letters on my laptop. It's that lost-in-a-moment feeling that grows inside me every time I come across a very intriguing book. Love is that peaceful state of mind I find myself in every time I do things passionately. Love to me is a way to showcase my unusual self, the me who gets quiet when it comes to reading a story or a book, the me who becomes a totally different person when I write something, the me who places down the mask I've been putting on too long for everyone to enjoy. Love is my way of giving away pieces of my unseen self.

Love is the smell of a new book. Love is that smell of a wet soil after the rain showers it. Love is when everything in my room is tidy and clean. Love is when I spend a good one hour in the shower. Love is when all the colors in the crayon box coordinated with each other. Love is that giddy feeling I have when listening to someone playing a musical instrument. Love is the lazy day when I spend so much time in bed, doing absolutely nothing and being fine with it. Love is when I bite that desirable piece of pizza on a Friday night or any other night when I crave for some pizzas. Love is my obsession with monochromatic colors. Love is my collections of perfume. Love is matcha latte or hazelnut tea latte from that specific coffee shop. Love to me is the little things that explains who I really am.

Love is endless and ironically it takes some paragraphs to say this one important thing about what love means to me...

Deep breath...

Love is me trying to love myself. It's all the struggles to love my every curve, spots, even scars. It's the bittersweet feeling of being content with the reflections I look at in the mirror. It's the struggles of accepting all my flaws, the tiny little weird things I do when I'm nervous. It's the struggle to accept my social anxiety, it's the struggle to be decent, it's the struggle to trust somebody. Love is me trying to put me at the top of the "People Whom I Love" list. Love is all the hard nights I've spent in tears or the nights after a very difficult mental break down. Love is all the times I feel so disappointed. Love is all the times I've spent fighting the urge to hate myself. Love is me trying to accept my own thoughts. Love is me trying to be happy with who I really am as a person. Love is me being my true self around everyone whom I'm sure I can trust. Love is them convincing me that I'm worth loving. Love is every bit of effort I keep up in order to not give up with myself. Love is a form of hope; a hope for me, somewhat an unlimited second chance I provide for myself so that I can try loving myself. And saying this is my way of proving that love really is an indescribable powerful feeling.

I never thought I would say that... But with that being published and read by hundreds of people, taking that back feels so useless. So, that's that about what love really means to me. Have you got some thoughts? Some answers? Some opinions? Some explanations? If you still haven't got anything, I'm going to give you a little more time to let yourself ponder.

I'm a writer. Although it seems like it has nothing to do with the topic, it actually does. The hardest part of being a writer comes in two; one, sending your story out to the editor and receiving your own story not long after you've sent them with a side note "things to edit" and two, waiting for your story to be published once you've edited everything. I had to wait for at least a year until my book is born. So, I wrote a story about colors about a year ago, I believe. I'm one of the several writers that are chosen to write a story in the theme of 'colors'. I was lucky to be given brown as my theme. But soon after I realized how hard it was to relate anything with brown (except maybe coffee, the ground, the product of our metabolism--you know what I'm talking about, all those boring things), I regret feeling so lucky about it. It was hard. I had to do some massive research. I even had to cross and rewrite some of the plots. All in all, it wasn't as good as being lucky would feel like. Heck, it was the other way around. But thankfully, I managed to stay alive until the story was done.
Not a long ago, I got home after a very stressful day. My mom told me that the story has been published and has been distributed to different bookstores all across Indonesia. Funny how I haven't got any copies but thrilled and grateful that my book is finally out there in the nearest bookstores.
This is where the correlation of being a writer and love gets to be explained. I have always wanted to make writing as a way to grow up. I want my masterpieces to grow up along with me. Back when I was in 5th grade, I started writing a short story and it got published. Then, I published two of my own novels in middle school. In 2014 I believe, I published a horror/mystery novel which was pretty amazing for a person who has never been keen on things about ghosts or blood like me to be able to write. And right before I graduated from the dreaded high school officially, I managed to publish another one and this time it's about love. Now you can understand what I'm trying to say... So, yeah. I want my books (my babies) to grow with me. Going through different phase of life, I get to write different stuff, too. Different genres. Short stories, friendships stories, horror stories, romantic stories, the list will still go on until I finally hate writing which will be so impossible to do.
And yeah, this is my new book... About love, about being different, about trust issues, about the color brown, about choosing whether to let go or hold on, about saying goodbye, about being disappointed, about being underestimated, about being forcefully put into a world where you have a hard time loving yourself and ending up understanding about yourself more than you ever have before. For those cafes lovers, you should really read this. And for those who love chocolate so much, you should also read this and spare some times of yours on my book:) I'm not promoting or whatever here. I'm just genuinely want you all to see how much I've grown both in real life and in my writing.
 ORDER!

That's about it. That's a little something about love...

Have you find your definition about love yet? I hope you have. Explain that to yourself and make yourself understand of your own twisted and strange thoughts. Love is indeed a very powerful word. You can't just flip it around like a pancake. You've got to know what love is and what it means to you, yourself, and your life. Love is something worth investing time in, I believe. Learn to love and maybe you'll find an understanding along the process.

Okay, I'm so done trying to act decent here. Let's switch back to being that sarcastic little biatch. I've come to a realization that there are approximately fifty thousands of quotes about love. I was going to go through all of them, I mean pinterest is awesome and everything and so is tumblr and goodreads but it will definitely take my whole sleeping time to find the best one. So, I'm just gonna pick the very first one I really like the moment I read it, okay?
Love is that condition in which happiness of another person is essential to your own. -Robert A. Heinlein, Stranger In A Strange Land.
That may give you some help in answering my dreaded question. I'm just going to keep asking you about it. So, what is love to you? Enjoy your time searching for some answers, love:)

Oh and I'll be posting something as intriguing as this one (hopefully this is already intriguing enough) on Thursday I guess. It's something to do with The National Education Day! Be fully prepared, okay? I'm going to go all smarty-pants in that post...
Alright, I'm signing off:) See ya later!

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