Descriptive Essay About Love

Much has been said about love, but if you search the horizon, you will discover that most of the things written about love are either pithy or cynical.

Love is difficult to define, difficult to measure, and difficult to understand. Love is what great writers write about, great singers sing about, and great philosophers ponder. Love is a powerful emotion, for which there is no wrong definition, for it suits each and every person differently. Whether love is between family, friends, or lovers, it is an overwhelming emotion that can be experienced in many different ways.

Soft rays of sunlight dance gently across my face leaving patterns in every direction they move. My bedroom walls remind me of you. Days without you by my side are black and white. Dull. I had no friends until you came back into my life. Our time together was magenta. Peaceful. You always knew how to draw me to you, even without meaning to. Chilling. The blue sky that one day when we were nine laying down on the grass at the park, that was the day I first realized I kind of loved you. These same walls we confessed our love and desires. As I lay here in my bed with sheets you once laid, I feel your presence consume me.

The hypnotic glare of thousands of pixels illuminates the contours of my body, projecting a shadow of desolation onto the bedrooms walls which seem to stand over me. My shame blindfolds me. The voices inside my head reverberates,

As I walk into the Homeward Animal Shelter for my dog walking shift, I think of the reason I began my weekly volunteering. I want to give love, in any way I can, to the animals who have been left by the ones they love. These animals that I spend an hour and a half with every Sunday need to know that someone loves them. That they have not been forgotten about and it gets better. After spending the summer with my aunt and uncle, I learned that. As I watched their newest rescue dog Snoop open up to me after 3 years and watching his mile stones. For a dog that was abandoned by his family and left on the street, bounced between the shelter and temporary homes, he has finally found permanent love in our family.

A seemingly endless stretch of road takes me to where I am needed. The call that changes everything happened only moments ago and my heart has not ceased trying to pound its way out of my chest. The deep, dark abyss engulfs me as I speed past the barren land. The fear of missing this important moment overpowers the fear of hitting the crushing mass of a deer, so I press down on the gas pedal harder. Desperation causing all other worries and thoughts to fly out the window. I needed to be there the minute I got the call, but the 55 miles in between my destination and I laughs at my attempt to reach my destination in a timely manner and stretches on with no end in sight. Time is not my friend tonight. I feel the need to push the beast of a car as fast as it can possibly go bubbling up inside me, and I have to restrain myself with all my might. I am fighting a losing battle, I know, but still I try, knowing that I want to be there for this once in a lifetime moment. I had been waiting for this night for months, and now that it's finally here, I am in the middle of nowhere trying my hardest to get to where I need to be but not seeming to be getting anywhere.

I believe in going out on Saturday nights. I believe in the frost from my breath visible the cold air, the squish in my soaked shoes from inches of rain, and the hair on our arms raising from fear of the zombies being paid to scare us in the haunted house. I wouldn’t change the rain hitting against my windbreaker or the cold sweat for anything.

I can’t begin to express my feelings right now. The only adjectives that come to mind are sad, mad, happy, relieved, and confused. I am all of these things rolled into one. I will explain, but just know I respect you enough to give you the space needed to take a step back. It will allow the both of us to do some soul searching. I think this is best for the both of us mentally. I don’t want things to be awkward when I see you, I would like to eventually work through this time of transition. Will it be easy? I don’t know. We need time to figure that out.

Three rings sit upon my hand, wrapping around the perimeter of my fingers. Each one was given to me in order to represent what I mean to the bestower, one ring means more. It’s not that it holds a higher monetary value, rather just a higher and wider space in my heart. I see a future in it, a promise that love is present, and will remain that way during my lifetime. It’s bonded to my finger, leaving a line behind when rarely removed. It’s a promise.

In life we often forget how to truly love ourselves. We fill our bodies with things we know are gonna slowly kill us, but we've been taught by those around us thats its a coping mechanism to be sane or to “fit in”. We learn lessons but take the knowledge the completely opposite way that deprives us of feeling happiness and love. We get hurt and build the barriers that stop us from giving our all to someone because past experiences make us think that'll it'll happen again; sometimes it does and sometimes it takes us by surprise and makes us wish we never suffocated ourselves by the thought of something bad happening.

A soft, hissing and crackling emerges from the flame. The flavor of the smoke calming me as I stare out on to the cold deserted street below. My neighborhood still as the dead after a day of activity. Now only I and a few passing cars enjoyed the peace and tranquility. The cold quiet night, like many I have spent smoking at my window, reached my skin and over time caused my extremities to numb. As if to mute the pain. Mind and body alike at last. The tree moved slowly in the wind had seemed to dance to an old and forgotten waltz in companionship with the smoke from my cigar. Memory is a dark entity, one which has cursed me with recollections of my vengeful past. Memories of her. Her to which I pledged heart and soul, body and mind too some many a night ago. Her beauty without measure and her smile without fault haunt me. Her words carved into my being like words etched into the cold stone. Leaving me scarred. I inhaled more, as if to smoke the mere thought of her out of my head like a hunter would an animal he hunted. Love is something abstract, a concept of which I am of the misfortune to not be able to comprehend. Pity those that long for companionship and find themselves enslaved by it while retaining a belief in love's purity and never polluting form. However, those should be pitied more if they can't see the beauty in imperfection and that which is misunderstood. My last inhale left s my lungs, filling my view with only a slight orange glow cast by the lit cigar end

Love is a very mysterious thing. People can have a love-at-first-sight type of situation or they can slowly, over time fall for someone. There have always been some meaningful quotes about love. Such as, “everybody has a soulmate” or “love will lead you to the person you’re meant to be with.” I always thought love wasn’t real, and that people could never commit their lives to another person. Love was scary to me because i thought it would make my life worse, when in fact, it made my life complete. The first time we met, the first date, the first kiss, and the day he proposed are all signs of what life is.

Love. Love is shown in so many ways. Whether it be a loving husband buying a beautiful, diamond ring or a child’s crush bringing the other a tootsie roll, love is always being expressed. What is one way that no matter what your age, or what the mood of your significant other is in, you can look like the most caring person in the world? A magnificent glass vase filled with freshly plucked, blooming flowers. A vase full of fresh flowers can really mean a lot to someone who is sick, is having a hard time, or just needs an exaggerated reminder that they mean the world to you. There is such a deeper meaning to the vase then you could imagine at first glance.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry." He says sincerely. He said my name. He must be that guilty. He rarely says my name I sigh and turn around to cup his cheeks.

I stepped out of the cool, air conditioned movie theatre and into the muggy heat of summer. My face ws so red it practically matched the heat outside. I had just had my first kiss at 18. The kiss that girls both dread and dream about at the same time. Waiting to be 18 till having your first kiss seems like a long time, but I always believed I wouldn’t even have anything remotely romantic happen to me in high school, so 18 is fine with me. I had never had a crush on a guy or even entertained the idea the one would like me. I would often hear sermons about how some people are not meant to get married and live a life of solitude. I prayed to God every night that I was not one of those people. No matter how aloof and uninterested I seemed on the outside about romance, on the inside I LOVED it. I would read every romance novel and watch every romantic movie or show I could get my hands on. I lusted after being the female lead; to find my person was my dream.