What is love? I think we get so hooked up on finding the right sort of love, that we forget to ask ourselves the question. I mean, love is and can be a million things and comes in so many shapes and forms, so it kind of has to be hard to find- it’s almost like an impossible scavenger hunt that most of the time only sets us up for failure.
The crazy part about it, is that we fall in and out of love. There’s really no such feeling we can find ourselves falling into. It’s weird, but yet so beautiful; it’s uncontrollable and we don’t get to decide when it’s going to happen.
We see it everywhere and it almost seems like we have come to believe that we think we deserve some type of love. But doesn’t that take away the whole point of it? We all understand and see it differently from one another