If you avidly follow my blog...this'll look familiar. Hahha. I wanted to repost it though, for my sake, cause I just reread it, and liked it. I meant to change it, but just reading it again...I decided I don't want to. hahaha k, talk to you later alligator.

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Love. I have so much to say about it, yet I don’t. It’s something exciting, yet scary. Something that everyone thinks they know all about, even when they don’t. I think in some ways, that’s the beauty of love – the fact that it’s such a mystery. And even when someone does find the meaning of it in their own life, it can mean something totally different to the next person. To me, love is a lot of things. But I think whether it be familial love, a love between friends, or romantic love, I think love always involves sacrifice. Love, to me, is what I come home to at the end of a long day. And while it’s not something I always acknowledge, I know it’s always there. Love is my parents working hard every day to be able to give me the comfortable life that I have. It’s them working hard to put food on the table and a roof over my head. Love is me and my brothers having a meal together in front of the TV. It’s us opening up a bag of chips, eating half and leaving the rest for the other person. It’s even my dad dozing off on the couches at the mall, while he lets me and my mom shop. It’s my family being there for me, always. But to me, love is also the little text asking me where I am after I miss a day of school. It’s the little wake up texts, the fist pounds, the rides you can count on, and the late night visits. It’s the comfortable silence while sitting around and doing nothing together. It’s even the snide remarks after you do something stupid. It is also the teacher asking how you are doing after he saw you in tears the week before. Love can be what we see in the movies – the unexpected declarations, the bold proposals, and the happy endings. However, I’ve also come to realize that it can often be the opposite. Sometimes, in life, love is you crying your heart out in your bed, late at night. It can be the words left unsaid, the song lyrics that you’re always singing, and sometimes, it’s something that you even have to let go of. Love is saying you understand, even when you don’t, and it’s moving on, even when you don’t think you should have to. Love is sacrifice. I say this because after all, love started with the greatest sacrifice of all and “We love because He first loved us” (I John 4:19). I think even with time, love will remain a mystery. And even though I know that, I think I will never stop trying to gain more of an understanding of it. It’s a beautiful, mysterious thing that is not easily found. I think that’s what makes it so frustrating, but also such a prize.