If you’re reading this, you’re human.
Congratulations on that. Think of every animal that is jealous of you. Sure, it’d be super bad ass to be a bear or an eagle, or something, but every slug, pigeon, rat, and low-level organism would rather be human.
Sure, being human has some drawbacks.
There are birth defects due to nuclear disasters…
There are so many bad things out there that make you wonder what’s the point in moving on. Really, what is the point of it all? If we were as smart as we thought we all really were, we’d end it all. While sometimes there seems to be nothing good about what we’ve done with ourselves as a species, something comes up and reminds us why it’s all worthwhile.
I know the feeling and I’m sure you do, too. It comes with a certain amount of difficulty to admit, unless it’s absolutely easy in the beginning, which it never is…
Love.That’s right, love.
Think about it… Why else exist?
Do you really want to exist for hate, greed, conceit, murder, mayhem, death, destruction, and violence?
Yeah, sure, in your free time, and in fun ways, but not in literal means.
Let’s all agree on one thing: we exist to love. To love a person, an idea, an ideal, or a deity, it makes no difference. We love.
There are all sorts of different types of love.
There’s the kind where you give your entire life to something…
There’s the kind you’d do anything to save…
There’s the kind you can’t live without…
And last, but not least, there is romantic love…
Yeah, love rules, no matter what kind it is.
And if you’re reading this, you are not only human, but you’re lucky enough to have something worth loving. I’m guessing it’s rollerblading. No matter how society, trespassing laws, or skateboarders view it, you love it.
A love untested is a love unfounded. A love that doesn’t come with sacrifice is a love I don’t wish on my greatest of foes. Love, you see, is defined by the amount of love you put into it.
The more you have to lose, the more you should risk. (Ask a bookie.)
The more you fall, the more you learn to stand up. (Ask yourself.)
If it hurts at times, it’s probably good for you (Ask your immune system.)
Your mom would be hotter today if she had an abortion. (Ask your dad.)
That, my loving friends, is true love. It’s exploring every fault, every little thing that could easily shake you to your core, leaving you a crying, drooling shell of a human being, and still not changing your view point.
Sure there will be trials. There will be ignorant words spewed…
But you can make amends.
There will be pain…
But you will heal.
There will be scars, whether you can see them or not…
But there will be triumph…
And there will be a rising Phoenix from the ashes we left behind.
Really, when there’s love, we all win. You don’t have to love everything, but you don’t have to hate something different to protect what you love.
Sadly, love means being hurt. It means making mistakes. It means pain. It means wondering if you’re worthy of being loved, if what you’ve decided to do is the right thing, if what you’ve been doing will pay off in the end…
Sometimes, love is wrong.
But the more you love, the smarter it becomes.
Sooner or later, the right love will come around.
It will seem perfect. It will seem fair. That’s when something will go wrong.
You’ll get upset. There might be some blood. There may be a scar, but as you’re sitting there, with the pain, the fear, the misunderstanding of the thing you love, there will be that moment.
There will be that moment where you collect your head, lick your wounds, and come to realize how lucky you are: you are in love.
Sure, we can look at other animals that share this planet and think we see love, but humans are the ones that can inescapably describe everything we’re feeling.
Yeah, we have millions of ways of expressing how we feel, even if that there are some universal facial expressions that convey the same meaning in every culture: anger, sadness, disgust, surprise, fear, and joy. See, no matter who you are, if you’re pissed, emo, scared, or happy, you look the same as the dude next to you.
So, to feel different, we create all this extra bullshit. If love is a simple thing, talking about it only complicates it more.
Our abundance of communication is our downfall.
We talk too much.
I know I do.
If I were smart—which I will never claim to be—I’d keep my mouth shut. Hell, if we were as intelligent as other species, we’d just do what Nature told us to and go about our business. We’d flash our feathers, let what we want to love come to us, get our lovin’ on, and part, hoping we’ll leave something behind that’s worth remembering.
But we’re not so lucky. As I said before, being human comes with its downfalls. That would be love, too.
Love, unfortunately, is a downer just as much as its and upper. (Which gives it the same chemical compound as cocaine, I think.)
Love can become obsession.
Obsession will destroy you.
Only if you let it.
Love will tear us apart, but it can also mend us together.
I say if we’re lucky enough to be human, and lucky enough to love something, we should all treat that thing we love with care. That doesn’t mean attacking every little fine detail. That doesn’t mean letting foolish emotions get in the way. That doesn’t mean abandoning it when it needs us most.
It’s not an easy thing, but c’mon, it’s love.
That, my friends, is the point of all of this.
Love, for whatever, is worth defending. It’s worth the humiliation, trouble, and deep torture that can twist your spine in eight directions. It makes everything so desirably simple, yet so confoundingly complex.
It’s dirty, raw, and beautiful.
The blood we’ll spill for it will never equate to the amount that has given us life.