Love has been defined in bazillions of ways, by bazillions of people, from the Bible to philosophers to variety of authors, egoistic, realists and narcissists but so far, what I quoted is one definition that I love among others. It’s touching, pure, and somehow complicated but actually not.
Love could be anything, in fact love is universal; it’s also a bond and the closeness that’s established through love is a gift, a priceless one. Such is a bond with true or extremely close friends. Distance can’t erase it, nor could time because the bond that’s sewn together is by far sturdier than both distance and time.
Why the sentiments? I don’t have any idea, well I might; alright I do. I have a few of that kind of friends, those that could guess or know what I’m up to and could put up with my never ending rants as well as my sarcasm. I can say that our friendship is somewhat extreme because I know myself and it’s pretty hard to put up with me like I always say. Maybe because I’m starved of affection or something, sometimes I don’t really understand too but I know; it’s hard to get through someone like me.
Currently, I am far away with those friends, so freakishly far. And we don’t get to talk often; well we have each our own lives to live plus I am sort of straying from some social media specifically Facebook and time differences, it’s a total disaster. But I know that they remember me as much as I remember them and that if ever we get time to talk, there’s no adjustment that needs to be done. When we get that chance to talk again, it’s just picking up where we left off and it’s always as fun as I can ever remember.
I guess that could be classified as loving, I am not positively sure. I’ve been looking at that angle for quite some time now and I am still not certain about it. The only love that I am certain about currently is familial, and most of my “I love you” nowadays is from my 1st brother (yes, we say “I love you” to each other before hanging up) which is also quite unexpected especially because we grew up hating each other (or I hated him because he was mother’s favorite which she insist that it isn’t so) and fighting like cats and dogs, I guess things change when you get older, well, most of it.