It’s wanting to give more than you get.
It’s a party in your sober heart that blurs your not-so-sober mind.
It’s when your Christmas tree is lit.
Love is one of a kind.
It’s what you hear in every song.
It’s what you see in every out of focus photo.
It’s what you may not feel for so long.
Love is in the comforting warmth of hot cocoa.

Although it’s been a long while, I can still feel it. Or at least feel my love for love whether it’s mine or theirs. I may only see it but I feel it. I feel what I consider to be love because who knows if it is actually love.
What I consider to be love, it may or may not be what I said. Love is infinite. Love is finite. Which one I may never have the answer to. Either way it ends. Ends in death or separating. Unless, of course, our souls go somewhere after we die. Are we able to be reunited with our loved ones? But, at last, what if we just die?

Love: infinite or finite?
Our souls: infinite or finite?

Two subtle, yet profound, things I ask myself everyday…