Love

At the age of twenty years, five months, and twenty-two days, I have never been kissed. I have never heard the words, "I love you," from a boy. I have never felt a warm embrace. But still, I have loved. Maybe more than those around me with much more romantic experience than I.

I have a hard time understanding the term, "love" in today's society. It seems that love is a selfish thing; "I'll love you, but only if you love me back." But I have recently realized that love-real love-is not a conditional thing. It's not something you should expect in return, it's a deep, unspoken caring for another, no matter what the circumstances.

I love someone. I care for them, I worry for them, I think about their well-being, and I pray for them always. I couldn't say whether they love me back, but that doesn't change my feelings. I don't expect romance and I don't expect them to care for me as much as I do for them. I simply love. And I'm grateful that it's something I'm capable of...though it is quite painful at times. And very lonely.

Of course I would appreciate love in return. Who wouldn't? I am human after all, and all humans want love...we want to feel needed, and wanted in order to know that we exist for a reason and that our lives have really been worth something. We need to know that the pain we endure and the risks we take are all for our own eventual happiness and welfare. But I believe that it has to begin with love. Unconditional.