What is Love?

We know what it is, though we may not know exactly where it starts and where, if at all, it ends. There have been countless books, movies with Matthew McConaughey, poems, and Hallmark cards that try to elicit the feeling or tell us what exactly love is. But what is it to you (using my NY accent here)? Love it or not, I’m trying to identify my thoughts on the matter, so that I can give it a fair shot in my book. How do you describe something that is so…so…I’m in trouble. It is indescribable, and that is not a good thing. Or is it? 

Is this a kissing movie?

To me, and hopefully my characters share some aspect of this thought, love pushes and pulls, it is an infinite paradox. It is universal and personal; indefinable and recognizable. It is shared and horded. It is emotional and physical, and sometimes everywhere in between. It drives us to make stupid and wonderful decisions. Love causes heartache and butterflies, it grows and fades. It’s an excuse for the irrational, a wakeup call to the calculated.