If you know me well enough, you'd know that I ask this question so many times: what is love? Just so that my friends won't get tired of me asking this question, I'm gonna use this platform now to bombard the internet with my questions.
This question has continued to amaze me. My philosophy classes don't have much access to this extent, but they helped trigger the epistemology of love. I became more curious, and I grew to be unafraid of asking questions. I'm not saying that I don't question anything else, I just find the idea truly enchanting. The first time I asked this question to myself, so many questions branched out. How can we be so sure that the feeling is love? Who told you that that was love? Who was the first one to say, "ooh I'm in love?" If love is a feeling, how can I be so sure that what I'm feeling is love? I can't seem to find an answer.
Truth is, I don't think there is an answer. There's love for you, and there's love for me. Who thought of the word "love" and how did that word encompass such a strong feeling? It determines such a strong feeling. You say "I love you" to someone, and suddenly the whole world stops. What is so special about this word, especially when you attach a subject? Because "love you" and "I love you" are different. Where am I going with this? I think the word "love" has such a strong power to it, but what makes it so strong?
I love my friends, and I'm sure I do because they make me happy. This happiness is too grand for this world that I've associated it with "love," a word that I think humbles it. In other words, to me, love is that big happiness. It's the one that gives you light in the darkest of times. It warms you up with cups of hot cocoa or plates of sushi, bowls of ramen or udon or shaved ice, or cones of ice cream or even good talks. It's genuine. That big happiness, that love, is the one that makes me smile as I'm writing this. So, to me, what makes love so strong is this massive sphere of light that continues to grow and is different for everyone. All of this in one heart; so of course, it will get bigger.
I think it's a great conversation starter, asking what love is; I get to hear people's perspectives. My heart warms up so much because the conversations, as well as the idea of love, are enchanting. I asked my dad how he knew he was in love with my mom (the moment he realized he was in love with her), and he said that just the thought of not being with her would hurt him. This and the thought of love, be it platonic or romantic, is beautiful.
For what may be something so simple, love's got a lot of definitions. I may be questioning what love is, but my own puzzle doesn't mean that love itself doesn't exist. It will continue to exist whether or not I understand it; it exists just as knowledge exists. Love is a lovely concept.