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My Obsession with Love.
It is the one feeling I have been searching for since I knew what it meant.
Or rather, what it meant in theory. Even with all the books I have read, songs I have heard, letters and poems I have written, I know nothing about that sacred feeling; the one that breaks hearts and heals souls.
It can bring you to the darkest version of yourself or make you feel like you are floating on cloud nine. It is a unique experience—different every time.
According to the Ancient Greeks, there are eight types of love. One kind is Philia, the kind between family and friends. And there is also Eros, romantic love, and everything in between.
It seems to me that everywhere I look, the topic of love is present. When you turn on the radio, you’re likely to hear a song about another couple—two people who either worked out or did not. When you walk down the street, you’ll see people the young and old, holding hands, sharing a smile, or laughing at a hidden joke.
There are endless stories of those who had love then lost it and those who thought they found love only to realize they were trapped in a loveless tunnel of never-ending torture. Sometimes staying feels like a necessity; other times, it is because one is familiar with it—scared to venture into the unknown.
I have yet to experience a certain kind of love that comes when you find someone who is worth it, despite their aggravating habits and faults. I’m talking about unconditional love—a soul mate.
I believe love is a choice, and to achieve it, you need to work for it. You need to put in time and effort and make sacrifices to be in love. That ever-so-coveted feeling that seems to be both the solution and the problem to my heartache.
Some are searching for their life-long partner. Others long to reunite with family members they have long since stopped connecting with. For me, I want that exclusive form of love: self-love. Or, Philautia, as the Ancient Greeks called it.
One must truly love themselves before bringing another heart into the equation. I will admit that, in the past, I have not been good at following this advice. I now realize that no matter how hard you try or how much you pretend, not loving (and forgiving) yourself only breaks you more.
Perhaps you will never realize that, or maybe it will just take you 101 tries.
Whatever your story may be, I pray you find your love.
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