Descriptive Essay On 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.

She stands at 5'6’’ tall; she has pretty blonde hair, with the most beautiful green eyes you will ever see! Her smile, her smile still gives me butterflies in the pit of my stomach. She walks with such grace, and she is not afraid to show or share her love for Christ! She does so much to make sure that I am more than satisfied. She is an amazing mother to our beautiful 4 year old daughter. As you might have figured out, that woman, she is my wife Amanda! I never thought we would be together; 4.5 years later, we have a beautiful love story.

Love has many different meanings to different people. For a child, love is what he or she feels for his mommy and daddy. To teenage boy, love is what he should feel for his girlfriend of the moment, only because she says she loves him. But as we get older and "wiser," love becomes more and more confusing. Along with poets and philosophers, people have been trying to answer that age-old question for centuries: What is love?

One late morning in 1914, I leaned against the newly painted silver railings of the large Majestic, a beautiful ship with a black bottom and a bright white top. Murky, charcoal-black smoke came out of the three enormous, grey, cylinder-shaped chimneys, which began combining with the fresh sea air. The thunderous boat horn was then suddenly blasted, interrupting the beautiful, calming noises of the sea. I heard the screeches of the white seagulls choke as they flied through the tenebrous smoke. I took a deep breath of the crisp air, and held onto the cool railings. With my eyes focusing on the horizon where the sky meets the sea, I noticed how the soft, shimmering sun bleed through the dark white clouds, pouring

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.

It was a warm summer day. I was on my way to visit my best friend in South Florida. I had planned on stopping in my old town of Flowery Branch, Georgia and take my ex-girlfriend Courtney and her family to dinner. I haven’t seen Courtney in almost five years but we have talked everyday. This was a girl whom I had seen myself growing old with and her the same. We dated for 2 years before I moved a couple states away. I had feared one day our love would fade but life made it clear that despite our time apart the love only grew.

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...

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,

I believe in love. Love is a very strong thing, and I believe that love can be the most obvious thing. But I also think that love can be completely blind. I believe there are different types of love. I am going to tell you about my experiences with these different types of love.

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.

I’m Angelique, 15 years old, filipina. Everyone knows that about me and then they make their single story about me. I’m a shy girl to some and really weird and outgoing to others. No one really knows what I’m like or who I truly am. In this essay I will be revealing myself to all of you, whoever you are.

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.

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. 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.

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