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.

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.

Every one desires to be loved by someone or something. That is one our most valuable keys of commonality in this thing we encounter as a human race called life. We were created from a most selfless love ever recorded in history. God's love, also known as, Agape love. Love is displayed in actions: humbleness, meekness, gentleness longsuffering and self-control. However, most of us relate love to a parent, lover, spouse, or our children. Agape love is the abundant love that we should all strive for. Unconditional love is symbolic in most every relationship, obstacle, and all of our hopes and dreams should naturally be centered around. This kind of love ultimately became everything I wanted.

Axel, I’m aware you’re disappointed to the fact that I can’t seem to move on from you...

I have dated many people throughout middle school and a few during high school, but Alexander Valle was my first real love. Aside from being my first love he was also my first committed boyfriend in a way. We are not together anymore and I do not know how he feels about me anymore, but I still love him. Maybe not in a romantic way anymore but I know he still has a place in my heart. I watch over him from a distance, I make sure he is not getting into anything bad, and I still protect his name as if we were still dating. Something I learned from this relationship was to love and take care of what you love because they can leave at any given moment. I do not wish we were still together, but I do wish that he finds someone that treats him the way I never could.

"(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.

Looking down at me you say, "Your pussy so tight" thrusting forward my titties bounce it feels so good. We hold each other and kiss and you slowly fuck me into bliss...

Ranging between soothing lullabies and loud, rhapsodic thrillers, music is diverse. The ends of the spectrum typically never meet because they don’t mix well. Love, however, is like a symphony: constantly rising and falling, exquisitely unpredictable, but beautiful and unique, nonetheless. It's dissonant, yet still comes together to create something otherworldly. It’s rare to witness a love that makes one feel infinite. It’s even rarer to have this love last. When people are young, they are more likely to have small tastes of this love and are eager to pursue it in the future. I have been lucky enough to experience this symphony, and it really has changed my life.

The first time Daisy saw James Gatz she knew she loved him. I remember her coming over to my house and telling me all about him. They met at a diner where he was a dishwasher. He saw her come into the diner multiple times but she was always with other people. One day she came in by herself and he got enough courage to go talk with her. Gatz’s shift had just ended so he sat and talked with her. They immediately clicked. He walked her home and James officially asked her on an official first date. Daisy called me and told me about him that night. She told me how good looking he was. She thought James Gatz was the one she had dreamed of marrying since she was a little girl.

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

I always dated guys that were bad news. I only started dating at eighteen and I'm twenty one now. The guys I dated were either into drugs, cheating, alcohol, or just not good for me. They got me in to some bad things.

I sat on the stone cold bench near the fountain with my eyes fixated on the water that gushed forth from its four spouts, though I was not focused on it. I was there for what felt like hours, though the watch wrapped around my wrist said otherwise. My stomach was in knots and my depths of my chest were churning. It had been two days since this turmoil had begun, yet my heart said it began decades ago.

It was early in September, still warm out but autumn was just around the corner. Today was an exciting day, because tonight would be an exciting night. Tonight would finally be the night. I was ready… right?