Love

    I have never been in love but I often wonder what it's like. It sounds wonderful, yet awful. Empowering, yet crippling. Liberating, yet confining. Being "in love" is much more than feeling love for someone else. It's exposing your soul, knowing that you face the risk of being betrayed or exploited. It's about sharing weakness with another person. It's about compromise and forgiveness; acceptance. It's about giving someone permission to hold your fragile, palpitating heart in their hands, hoping that they care for it delicately. Love stripes away all the facades and exposes your darkest secrets, reveals your innermost fears. You are left naked and under scrutiny of the one you bestowed with love. And it's terrifying. But then the fear melts away as you're encased by comforting arms and affection kisses. Trust is so closely tied with love; it's what holds people together like adhesive tape. Yet it's such a delicate, easily broken attachment. People are so often tempted to sever it; which is why love seems to be short lasting. 
     When I think about this ineffable idea that has prevailed throughout the history of mankind, it evokes a myriad of emotions: confusion, anticipation, and fear. I don't understand it because I have never experienced it; and thus I look forward to when I finally do. However, I am scared of it because my trust in people has been shattered; I am an agglomeration of broken nerves and cynicism. Sometimes I wonder if my faith will ever be restored. Sometimes I wonder if there will be anyone willing to reach beyond the tangled thorns of my mistrust to my unattainable heart. Oh, I shouldn't trouble myself with thoughts about the indefinite future. I know that when I find love, my fear and reserve will deliquesce, and I will forget I was ever scared at all.