Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
-Louis de Bernières
I have thought a lot about love, as I'm sure most people have, and I've been thinking about it alot more lately. The idea of love is so conflicting to me. At times, I feel like I must love a certain person or understand what it means, but then I will grow and mature and reconstruct my idea of love so that it is completely altered. Is love more kind or more passionate? Does it excite or calm, or alternate between both? Certainly, there are many different types of love, but then why do so many people describe love in a similar manner? Is it truely better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all? Is it better to let someone go because you aren't sure you love them enough and risk losing what you have, or stick with what you have and always wonder if you could find something more substantial? I don't know what love is. I've seen glances of it--shadows, yet I have a feeling I'll never quite understand it.
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