Once upon a time when I was about sixteen I was given an assignment for my English class, it was a simple enough task; to write no more than one page on how I would define “Love” of course at the time I was sixteen, I knew exactly what love was about, I wrote my piece in five minutes flat and went off to play football with my mates.
Looking back of course as we do at things we did when we were young I realise that I didn’t have the faintest idea what love was, and sadly until recently when I found out about my wife’s affair it’s true meaning still hadn’t become apparent.
Mankind has been trying to explain this emotion throughout all of time, from famous song writers, poets and artists to the man on his knees holding a ring out in the hope of hearing a “yes” in response. I don’t think we will ever truly be able to explain such an emotion there are an estimated seven thousand languages across our planet and I don’t think they have enough words between them to define what love is really all about, but we will, as mankind does, continue searching for the answer.
If I was sat in that class again today, my paper would be very different, instead of a love that is carefree and exciting I would have to define love as a gift we hand to certain people throughout stages of our lives, this gift is the most fragile of things and if mistreated or discarded as an unwanted keepsake it will cause part of the essence of the person who gave it to die away not to be seen again. Thankfully we can also be on the receiving end of the ultimate present, and when this happens we flourish and prosper but to be given such a gift requires great care and responsibility
I think back over the years to those who I have given love to and in return received love from and hope truly that I handled their trust in me in a proper way, My wife and I still love each other, I am certain of this but only time and effort is going to tell how well the broken treasures can be repaired