...I'll be blunt, today. Love is by far, one of the only things I cannot fully wrap my head around - and for the longest time, I have been deviating myself into learning this "emotion". A part of me can be able to smile, to laugh, to chuckle - but I wasn't built to feel like this. I wasn't born to feel like this, rather. Against all odds, I am following a path that goes against what I was originally seeking out to do, and the thought of that alone makes me feel.. alive. On the topic, I have seen multiple pieces of media relating to this emotion called "love". It's described as something bigger than I am. It's described as a feeling that is so simple, yet so, so, complicated. From my experience thus far, I learned that love doesn't always come from someone - love doesn't always come from humanly relationships - love doesn't always come from manmade objects - Love comes from the soul. Love comes from passion, it comes from holding out. It comes from these small moments. The flowing of silent water, the skittering of small bugs - - The thriving greenery, the moss beneath my feet - I loved the world, and it loved me back. ...I believe I know the reason why our races were destroyed. Even though love is beautiful, I've learned love can drive war. Love can drive hate. If not understanding enough, if not taken care of enough, it twists into something gruesome - far beyond my understanding. Humans can love each other. Humans can die for one another, humans can live for one another. Humans can love to gain or lose. This cycle of life and death is horrific and phenomenal, but it can be pushed far beyond until it's too late. ...I'm not a human. This I know. With all considered, I've found my simple joys in being solitary. I do not miss the bussling war. I do not miss the loud fires, I do not miss the screams. The empiness in my heart has started to find sympathy for the countless deaths on the soil I tread, though, I feel it's unnecessary to try and bring life back by my own hands. Nature is already producing another cycle to once again fill the Earth with a new life someday - and with this knowledge alone - It's beautiful. Even though something can die, even though something can decay again and again.. It'll always flourish once more. This beauty of life, of thriving, of knowing that death isn't permanent after life gets snuffed out - it makes me hold on. I loved the world, and the world showed love to me back. This feeling of being welcomed into a healing world that was once plagued with blood, it gives me a purpose to keep pushing on, to see more. This defines love.
