love.

love. how can 6 billion people, being so very different, all eventually wish and yearn for it? how can love, though expressed in a million ways, always illicit the same 'out-of-this-world' feeling? how can we, no matter at what age, place or time never get tired of it? it still amazes me.

since i was a kid, i have always despised or discounted the love that i've been receiving (or giving for that matter). to my idealistic mind, love should be grand, majestic, lofty, larger-than-life and perfect. of course, i was always frustrated because there is no perfect human love. it was always lacking and falling short of its supposed standard. maybe that's why i felt unloved, many a time, insignificant.

but over the years, through what they call life experiences, i start to see that love is communicated in more ways than one. ways that though may not be grand gestures of love, but are nonetheless uplifting, warming, strengthening. love causes your mum/grandma do the household chores for you, even though it is the most unappreciated job. love causes your friends to do you a favour, though it may not be returned or praised. love can be a simple meal cooked by mummy who has not done any housework in over 10 years. love can be mum calling to nag you to be home early so that you are safe.

it takes many forms, but love is still love- still grand and majestic; liftng you up to something better than we really deserve.