Love is amazing.
Love brings you to places you’ve never been, asks you to do things you never thought you were capable of doing. It stretches your patience to the extremes and sometimes even gives you courage you didn’t know was there. It gives you hope that transcends all impossibilities.
Love pushes you to go the extra mile.
To love is to invest. To love is to do something, be something without expecting anything in return. To love entails to risk making yourself vulnerable. To love is to allow the possibility of being hurt and that, I suppose, is what most people fear: to realize in the end that all investment– time, treasure, effort– had been a waste.
Love is inconvenient. Amazingly inconvenient, simply put.
But I suppose that’s what makes it all worth it, eh?
To love is to take the leap of faith without expecting a soft landing and, lo and behold, land in a cushion. And even if it were otherwise, despite the loss and aches, you know in yourself that it was better than to never have had it at all.