Descriptive Essay On Love

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 defined by the Webster’s dictionary as “a passionate affection of one person for another.'; The short story “The Lady with the Dog'; written by Anton Chekhov,

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.

Music and life are diverse, with soft and soothing lullabies and large and rhapsodic thrillers. But there is no in between. Love, however, is like a symphony. Constantly rising and falling, exquisitely unpredictable, but beautiful and unique nonetheless. Dissonant, and yet still comes together to create something otherworldly. It is rare to witness a kind of love that manages to make one feel infinite. It is even rarer to have this kind of love last. Although, when people are young, they are more likely to have diminutive tastes of this love and are bound to advance the prospect of it in the future. I have been lucky enough to experience this symphony and I hope others are fortunate enough to encounter this illustrious phenomenon we all call love.

Today I am sitting in bed overthinking everything that has happened for the past year, for the 5th time this week. I don’t get why Anthony is still trying to get with me and after everything that’s happened between us you would think damn he hates her or just wow he’s finally over her. Well no he isn’t, he still “loves” me and at this point it’s exhausting being “loved” by someone that truly never cared. Young love sucks ass. It’s been so long and me and him are still fighting over the same stuff that happened a year ago. We fought everyday and night and it always just left me crying in the middle of the night while the words/phrases such as “This is all your fault/this is on you this time” and all the times he would apologize about something just ran through my mind a million times making me question what I did wrong for him to say all these things.

The first time we kissed was after we had had sex. I knew we were lying on freshly washed white cotton sheets and that we were in your bedroom, but I couldn’t see anything aside from your hands. My mom always told me that hands always tell you more than eyes or mouths ever can. Your hands were smooth, and besides writing down exams they had never seen the hardship that mine had. There were no callouses, and the skin around your palm was soft and cushiony. Mumbling along to a song playing in the background, I remember tracing words onto your skin, then giggling as you tried to figure out what I had written.

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.

Love is an abundant emotion that has different degrees. There is familial love, friendly love, unconditional love, and of course romantic love. Romantic love will be the superstar of this article. Romantic love may be around every corner whether between an old couple or a young teenage romance. However, love is not the easiest thing to attain. It is such a simple concept, though a difficult thing to actually have a person’s hands on.

The next three weeks raced by as Caroline floated in a happiness bubble. Every day Nico called or texted and she responded with cute flirty messages. It was stupid to get attached to someone who might walk away but she couldn’t help herself. The morose man who refused to share was replaced by a man who said all the right things to make a girl blush and laugh at the same time. Each day she fell more in love with him.

Romantic love as a cultural script includes the belief that love is all you need; true love lasts forever; true lovers become one; love is pure and good; and anything done in the name of love cannot be wrong (Ben Ze’ev & Goussinsky, 2008). Romantic ideology encompasses positive aspects of love, such as mutual devotion and intimacy. This influence is present in a beginning scene where Angela is talking to Mamen about her boyfriend and stating her faithfulness. She explains how she is able to separate the job (prostitution) from her loyalty. Even if work is busy, 30 guys in a day, she will continue to be faithful. Angela advises Mamen to take care of her own boyfriend. Then a pseudo-scenario is brought up where a hot guy at a club is present

It’s amazing how when you love something or someone you know automatically. You see it for the first time and your heart feels full. When you truly fall in love with something you feel the urge to do anything to be with it all the time. When most people talk about love, they talk about a person, I talk about my city, Washington D.C. When I first visited D.C. I was a freshman in highschool and I instantly fell in love with the city. Something about it drew to me, from growing up in a small town to this big glamorous city that drew you in with it’s glory and significance like a moth drawn to a light. The minute I graduated high school I was moving there and living my life there with or without anyone’s support.

I looked outside, I admired the stars and how carefree they were, just floating in the sky, shining moving along carelessly as if nothing could go wrong. I love how they can be so at peace with each other. I was envious of it. I always come out onto the porch in the night when I have spare time. I like to sit and just admire in awe at how beautiful and peaceful the earth is, and yet it created such reckless bests to accompany it. I took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, taking everything in. Loving every little thing. Every moment. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined flying, high above the trees, the clouds and out into space, floating without care among the stars. I had only been outside for around ten to fifteen minutes before I jumped startled by the Big Bang that came from the house followed by silence, and then bellowing laughter. I chuckled lowly when I realized it was just my brother tripping over a shoe, as he got up noticeably embarrassed and dusted off his shirt trying to find any dignity that he had left. I watched him as he ran up the stairs face tomato red, as if he was going to cry. I waited a moment before walking up the stairs to find him in the corner of his room. I walked over to him and sat beside him on the floor. Not having said anything, we both sat there.

“For God is not unjust. He will not forget how hard you have worked for him and how you have shown your love to him by caring for other believers, as you still do. Our great desire is that you will keep on loving others as long as life lasts, in order to make certain that what you hope for will come true. Then you will not become spiritually dull and indifferent. Instead, you will follow the example of those who are going to inherit God’s promises because of their faith and endurance.” Hebrews 6:10-12