Love : A Personal Speech : Falling In Love

Love is not labeled with a number, from a young age, we are taught remorse and the act of caring for others and their feelings. For me, falling in love at only 14 was the biggest emotional roller coaster I have ever been on. Giving someone all of you is never easy, but giving all of you to the completely wrong person can be considered a tragedy. With falling in love, you must be prepared for either the most agonizing pain or stupefying feeling ever felt, it is a win or lose game with no in between.

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.

People tend to hold onto objects because it reminds them of an important past or significant people whom they received it from. There are countless items people hold onto, one of mine is a picture of me and my siblings. Although the photo is flat and meaningless to some people, in my perspective, there is an immense depth and value to to the actual object. This picture, which illustrates what appears to be me and my siblings having a good time, demonstrates the love I have for them.

In a world obsessed with the possession of "things," it is ironic to see that all people seek one thing that is completely intangible, love. Love can't be held, bought, manipulated, traded, forgotten, or stolen. Love is pure, honest, true, fulfilling, and most of all valuable. Love is not limited either. An unknown author once wrote, "Trying to bring pleasure to someone, because of the pleasure you feel to see that person's pleasure, is perhaps the most beautiful demonstration of love." Isn’t amazing how something so powerful can be found in the simplest of things. In my life I have felt love in many aspects of my life. I love my family, my friends, my country, my life, and myself. These are all the

seems that the main reason Phaedrus's point is valid is because in one of the

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.

Essays in Love is a novel about two young people, who meet on an airplane between London and Paris and rapidly fall in love. The structure of the story isn’t unusual, but what lends the book its interest is the extraordinary depth with which the emotions involved in the relationship are analysed. Love comes under the philosophical microscope. An entire chapter is devoted to the nuances and subtexts of an initial date. Another chapter mulls over the question of how and when to say ‘I love you’. There’s an essay on how uncomfortable it can be to disagree with a lover’s taste in shoes and a lengthy discussion about the role of guilt in love.

Love. A word with countless definitions and meanings, but a universal feeling. I love my dogs, my mom, my family, my friends, even the random strangers I pass on the street. But most importantly I love myself. There is a strong balance between putting yourself first and doing things selflessly for others. Sometimes you love someone so much, you’re willing to sacrifice your own future for them. That moment is when you need to take a step back and make sure you value yourself just as much as the other person.

My eyes were filled with tears. My heart was shattered into a million pieces. I laid a bundle of flowers down at the bed of my one true love. I silently cried as I traced the letters engraved into the cool stone. Why did I let this happen?

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 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.

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.

I have dreamed a thousand times if the day I finally have you, to feel your lips against mine, to take in your scent, to be yours. I know at first I won't be able to say much, for you see, I am not very good at communicating with words. I am two different women. The one that lives in normal life and follows to norms of society. Then there is the wild creäture that lives in me. she is my desires, my lust, as she is wild words are not always her form of communication, instead she uses the actions of her body. You beautiful stranger, with your dark eyes, have awoken that creäture. She is yearning for you, and on this day when we finally meet, she will be set free. The moment you walk into the room we make eye contact, you recognize the fire in my eyes. The burning desire to be yours at last. I gesture for you to come closer and before we can say anything I'm kissing you long and hard. I want to memorize your body with my lips, fix in my mind the way your hands feel all over my body as I tremble with desire for you to penetrate me. I beg you to not rush this, make it last, let's savor this moment. I want our bodies to complement each other's moves like a dance. I begin to sway my hips on top of you, set the rhythm, slow and sensual. You order me to look at you in the eye and enjoy every second like it will be our last. You gently push me down and I know exactly what you want. I begin kissing your hard cock, wrapping my lips gently around it and slide it down into my throat. I

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.

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