love

 

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; 
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again; 
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, 
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone; 
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone. 
It well may be that in a difficult hour, 
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release, 
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power, 
I might be driven to sell your love for peace, 
Or trade the memory of this night for food. 
It well may be. I do not think I would. 

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

Love is an emotion, a state of being, a motivation, and a gift. Love is the thing that drives us towards one another, whether for a fleeting, burning moment or for a lifetime. Love is what powers friendships, flings, romances, and lifelong partnerships of so many different flavors. We will chase it through fire and rain, sacrifice pieces of ourselves just to hold it, start wars for want of it. It warms us, gives us light in darkness, empowers our spirits, and in its absence leaves us in the coldest, darkest places.    It is impossible to say love is THIS or love is THAT. It is all, it is the best and the worst of what we have to give one another. 

(Originally written in 2013)

the invisible

On autonomy, harassment, and kindness