Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.
The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference.
The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference.
And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.
(Oct. 1986)
Elie Wiesel.
Sometimes, I think it's difficult to love. It's easier to ignore people who have hurt us, or to let little hurts become gaping wounds, to let anger turn to resentment. I think it's a challenge to forgive people out of love, especially if we think they are at fault. But love is meant to be unconditional. That it's not in spite of the flaws, the blemishes, the imperfections, but because of them. That we love because we love, not because they have helped us, or because we stand to gain by loving these people, not because they are easy to love, but because we want to. I don't know, part of me, the cynical side I suppose, tells me that to do so is too optimistic, the other part of me chides my heart for even entertaining such beliefs that it's too naive.
And love is not limited to passionate romance but is also found in little gestures and the nurturing warmth of family and friends... the comfort of security, the sense of belonging, the care shown. There shouldn't be perceptions of loneliness amidst the many, or of isolation and alienation by those close, or an ease in choosing solitude over company in the presence of love. Love makes solitude unbearable. And separation painful. Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes sums it up below:
I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each others' dreams, we can be together all the time.
I guess that kind of love is near impossible to achieve today... no one really knows what lies in a person's heart except for the person himself/herself. Who knows?