What is Love?
(Apart from a Haddaway Song, that is).
This sounds all deep and meaningful, and I guess it is. I could sound like a right cold hearted person here too, but people who know me, know I’m not like that.
For me, I am not sure what love ‘feels’ like. I know there are many types of love, for your family, your partner, your favourite football team. All different. But what does it feel like?
When I gave birth, I was told by everyone I met, and throughout my life really, that when you give birth you feel this ‘overwhelming’ love like nothing else. I’ve already blogged about how I didn’t feel this then, and how it took time for me to feel that love.
But it wasn’t a gushing, all encompassing, hit-me-with-a-truck feeling.
I felt connected. I felt like we fitted in with each other. I felt at home. It’s a feeling of ordinariness and normality.
Likewise, when I met my partner, I didn’t feel anything (although that could’ve be alcohol induced). I don’t even know when I decided I loved him. We just met one day, and that was it. I remember meeting him that night, and knowing we would be together. But it was like a instant thought, no trembling knees or butterflies. It was something accepted, gladly of course.
When I think of my family; my mum, dad and siblings, of course there is a tie that binds us. There is a link because we all grew up together.
I loved my nan dearly. I loved her, with a warm glow. A smile and a laugh. I loved her till the day she died, and I still do. The emotion is strong because she’s not here anymore.
Love to me is a wild panic, of an absence of another, of thinking you may never see that person again.
What is love to you?