Love is like an abstract painting. It stands right before us and yet we fail to grasp its entirety: its meaning, its purpose. Lines, curves, and shades that were meant to form threads of thoughts and ideas, simply float in empty spaces in our brains; sometimes caught but always slipping away. Every time, we attempt to break it down into simpler things, to translate it into words into conversational sentences. But rarely do we succeed. It’s a spectrum of emotions, carefully transitioned from pity to longing to hope. It’s creatively designed to be moulded by our own feelings and experiences to create a kind of love only we can portray. And so, we can never explain love in a universal sense. We are constantly unconsciously swayed by both our sorrow and happiness. We explain inclusive of subjectivity and exclusive of pure logic and reason.
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I do not dare say love is more than a chemical reaction and less than all our individual thoughts for I believe it is a combination of both. It is a chemical reaction carefully knitted alongside the desires and heartaches within us. It is the blending of our innate objective to survive and our wanting to experience something abstract in our lives. It is love in its entirety: in our minds and in our souls. Love is one of the countless things in this world that merges senselessness and reason, opinions and facts, art and science.