Love

I’m learning that the definition of love is more of a universal fling than the act of loving singular and indefinitely.
That love is real but not by society’s most recent standard.
And infatuation plays just as much a part in loving as your heart does, beating in your chest.
A run through of physical attractions, doused with a dab of an okay personality, and love comes around within the week.
Some people have never been in an actual relationship, but just dips their toes to test, maybe for personal reasons, or maybe just because they want to.
Some people have always been in a relationship. Whether it  be sexual or not.
And some people haven’t had either one.
But with love, comes judgment.
Judgment of self, of others, of actions, of looks, of hesitation.
And all of this is forever changing.
Looks, feelings, laughter, what you like in a person, and what you found that put you there in the first place.
People are pushed out by love.
And people are pulled in.
To be born, and to die.
A life for a life.
The single creation and definition of God Himself: Love.
I believe in love. But not the kind that you read about.
I believe in truth. And friendships. And the act of being honest and noble.
But not the kind you read about, hope for, want, or need.
I don’t believe you get what you want.
And I don’t believe you’ll eventually get what you deserve.
But I understand this all. And I understand that most people are able to love endlessly regardless of these issues.
And I understand some things can’t change. But yet, they can.
I’ve known this about love for a while.
I’ve been in love twice. But I’ve never had a relationship.
And I find that to be cruel.
To want someone and not be wanted in return.  
Tell me, have you ever been turned down?
Or has everyone you’ve ever been interested in loved you back?
I believe in love.
But then again, I don’t.
I believe in you. But then again, I don’t.
To love is not a selfless act.
To love is the most selfish thing you could ever do.