Aah, Love

Love is so beautiful. Real love. Pure love. True love.

Even when I am being ripped to ribbons by love's disappointments, simply seeing love work out for others makes me want to sing.

Don't get me wrong, too much of others' soppiness is certainly nauseating. I recently saw the film Bright Star about a love affair between the 19th Century poet John Keats and a young lady named Fanny Brawne. Well. The extravagance of their swooning got sickly sweet after the first 90 minutes of the film. But that's a side of love usually only visible to the lovers.

I don't understand how anyone can be contemptuous about love. Or cynical and bitter about love. Even when you might not have it yourself, surely seeing the presence of even a little more in the lives of others is cause for celebration?!

Aah, love. I wish I could fly about with Cupid's bow and arrows, granting the purest desires of each heart.