For years, I thought that being in love was the exclusive domain of two individuals who had pink hearts shooting out of their eyes at each other. Two parallel, yet one-way, vectors. And if I didn’t have a lover, then I didn’t get to be in love. Wah.
Screw that! Once again, I am lover-free. And I refuse to wait until I have one to experience being in love.
So, instead of grasping for love by reaching for the affections of someone else, I’ve been thinking about love as something that surrounds me and is available to me at any moment in time, should I choose to be in it.
I like to think of love as a substance–something contained in the “empty” space within every atom, in the wind that brushes my cheek every time this cafe door gets opened, in the smell of coffee wafting over from the espresso machine. This sip of coffee is…
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