Descriptive Essay On Love

A morbid melancholy stole over me. Anxiety gnawed at my heart. I was a living corpse. There was a feeling of chill in the air every day as I felt. I faked illness so as not to go to school. Despair hangs heavy in the stifling air. It was a dreary day for me , cold and without sunshine. I dread people and always avoid people. The door was locked from the inside. A cold grey light crept under the curtains. The windows were secured with locks and bars. The room felt cold and sterile.The flowers faded for want of water. A single lamp was suspended from the ceiling. The clock ticked louder and louder in a quiet room. I regarded the room as a refuge from the outside

Crumpled newspapers scattered the table like the bones of dead bodies after war. Windows wiped down of memories huddled between oak frames, facing a street with cosy cottages. Single embroidered carpets hugged the floor, covering the marble tiles in delicate silk. A whisper of wind floated in through cracks of the panes of glass, whispering it's songs of misery throughout the house. I breathed in gulps of air, allowing the icy coolness to fill my lungs, and the morning frost creep out. My glistening blue eyes presented purple bags, and my sleek hair was a tangled cobweb. My feet dragged along the stone floor like the walking of the undead. I’d been up all night, searching and seeking for answers.

Her hands danced in the air; her eyes were glued to the unforgettable view that surrounded us. She looked at me and threw my hands in the air with hers. I grew the courage my sister always had and looked down. I was in the clouds; I was on top of the city. Millions of ants danced on the floor beneath me. Skyscrapers and streets, smothered in traffic, formed a board game in my mind. The breathtaking view from atop the clouds formed a Van Gough canvas. My blood shot into every crevice of my body. The harsh wind made my eyes drier than a desert. As my brain plunged in and out of my skull, I realized the meaning of life’s adventures. Soon I began to feel a line of water descend from my cheek.

I glare out the window, watching the world go by. It’s cold out, and a vast blanket of white hang heavy over the hills, swallowing every distant object. I stare at nothing until a tiny beam of sunshine bearing through the clouds captures my attention. It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t take long for my eyes and mind to drift back to the dark, negative thoughts that are consuming me.

The door slams shut hard behind me as I grip the wide straps on my bag and head down the four flights of stairs. The glass industrial door seems heavier than before as I push it open. I catch my breath as the chilling wind slaps my face. The night sky envelopes the stars just as I try to embrace being human, being me. Once again, my breath forms little clouds as I dance and skip to my

"This place," I paused and stared deeply into him, "this place is as bad as they said to me. Wars, famine, selfishness and hatred across the planet." My hands were claimed by bigger ones, "But there is something that is obviously making it worth to live here. It's not your technology, it's not your celebrities, but it's the small amount of love we have. It's the imagination, the music, the art, the feelings...." It was almost like a magnet put our foreheads together, "it's the small amounts of positive things that made this world worth it. And I've seen it first hand." The stare I received couldn't be more captivating, my epidemic seemed to disappear within the deep mess of our feelings, "and I've unfortunately felt everything first hand." I could feel his breath hitting mine, "happiness, sadness, lust, loneliness, confusion, anger, disgust, fear," I dared one more look to his chest, and I bought a hand to it, and traced a heart, "and the most satisfying form of fear," pulling back to his eyes,

I woke up carrying grocery bag under my eyes; feeling as if I was falling down an endless, dark hole of boredom. The sun clawed at my window like savage, hungry wolves thirsting for the last piece of meat. The heat rained down like a breath from hell and showed no mercy for anyone in its way. The sun’s rays rippled and rolled of people’s cars like waves on the shore of a beach. People were submerged in the thick and humid air, involuntarily. Others trekked by sweating like sinners in church. Animals who were seeking shelter innocently, sat fried like cold bacon on a hot skillet. No matter where you go, there will be no escape.

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?

The boy’s eyes were half open, yet everything he saw was opaque: a shadow by his bed, and a drop of sunshine from the window. He just simply laid there, with no words, and even no emotions. Slowly, his eyelids lifted upwards, like a giant stone being lifted up by many strong men. His eyes were finally open, the eyes full of drowsiness and confusion.

What is love? The type of love I’m describing is the one that gives you butterflies when a certain person comes to mind. Just seeing that particular person can be enough to make one smile and make your day and all the worries go away. Right now that person comes to mind. It’s neither a crush nor infatuation and many are willing to do anything for this thing that is called love. Love can hurt in the long run, and people can also be blinded by it.

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.

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.

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 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 clouds must have better dreams than me. The clouds danced as I peered through slits, even as the glare from the window impaired me. My fingers tapped against the window in perfect syncopation to the piece I played later, yet no butterflies stirred inside me. If they did not insist, I would have worn pajamas instead, but then the performance would be at least have been intriguing enough to bear. Albeit it was only two o’clock in the afternoon, my lids drooped over my eyes from the blazing light as the image of scrawny babies haunted me.