Here’s what I think about love.
I think the single biggest question we spend our lives trying to answer in some form is “why don’t you love me yet?” We’ll ask most people only once; we’ll ask a considerably smaller number again and again as if we simply can’t believe that they already do.
I think that’s because while love exists in many forms, very few people will love you in a way that you understand.
And maybe there is no such thing as love, in the traditional sense of the word. Maybe love is just an infinite continuum of how scared you are to lose someone.
But don’t tell other people this. You’ll learn the hard way that words have edges, sharp enough to slice your tongue. And you’ll spend your time wondering what exactly you have left after everything is gone.