Narrative Essay About True 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.

The journey that Richard and Mildred Loving took is important for history and for the future of civil rights in the United States. I recently watched the documentary The Loving Story and enjoyed the footage, pictures, and interviews of everyone involved in the Loving v. Virginia case. The documentary addressed the issue of interracial marriage in Virginia in 1967.

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.

     “I love you.” These three little words might possibly be the most powerful statement one can make to another person. In life, most yearn for the intimate affection that a certain someone can provide them. Women dream of their Prince Charming to come and sweep them off their feet, while men search for the love of their life that sets their heart on fire. But what happens when love is thrown around without a second thought? Has this four letter word become an overused cliché? Has love been replaced with lust? Is there such a thing as true love? This last question has been asked throughout history, while many have argued and debated over the final answer. We, as a society, have become a loveless, sex crazed group

How has our perception of love changed throughout the centuries? In today’s media, our perception of romance has been distorted due to movies, tv shows, and songs. While in the Middle Ages, literature and ballads were how most people learned about romantic love. “Stories told through the ages to describe variations of love as it is found, challenged, lost, denied or thwarted, only to flare up again, carrying all before it, or else destroying the lovers in a conflagration of desire .” Although, our culture is more open and accepting of relationships, in the Middle Ages, secrecy and adulterous relationships were normal in order to have love and romance.

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 met her two years ago and we did not have much to say at that time. Little did I know that she would later steal my heart and become an intimate part of my life. As the saying goes "there is someone for anyone at any time in this life" and I was about to find out that this saying was so true. I have had a wall built around me and my defense was as a stronghold to protect myself from all the relationships that have come and gone over the years. I thought that I was meant to be alone in this old life and happiness was forever gone from me. This wonderful woman I am speaking of is Mary Doe, and the joy she has given me has revived my hope and faith that I may have finally found love and peace within. She has made me feel like I am a child

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.

Hani cried into him. This was not to be a love story, or one with a happy ending at all was it? There was never to be a finality. This would never end. Never. Hani would live forever, just as Lee should have, but he had given his life to her… his very soul. He would die here in her arms, and she would be alone. No hope. No love.

Our love started at a weird time in life because when we both started getting feelings for each other when I had a boyfriend at the time. Alex and I met because he was on my younger brothers soccer team back when I was in 6th grade, but we did not talk at all we just knew each other because his family knows mine. It was around February 2015 when Alex started talking to me after a lock in we had at church. I was his group leader so we goofed around that whole night we immediately became best friends because we were so alike. After a few weeks of talking and hanging out a few times, Alex admitted his feelings for me ,but was a little shy because I had a boyfriend at the time. I was in a really rocky relationship at the

When I was seven I met a girl who made me giggle. My first day at school, she walked up to me, her hands filled with sand, “Here, have this, you’re my new friend.” I took it appreciatory stunned by this tiny girl with glasses too big for her face. I carried it around with me until I was told off; sand was not allowed in the classrooms. We’d sit together and laugh and cut out tiny pictures of animals, we would tape them to our tables. We’d share older siblings and she’d slide her glasses up her nose right before they’d fall off her face. I’d sit there and eat my lunch, chiming in every now and again to tell her about my funny memories, which always resulted in her laughing so much she began to snort. Summer was the best because the sun seemed to focus on her, making her blonde hair light up and what set her apart from any other classmate, was she was always making me smile. She’d buy red ice-pops from the cafeteria and would hold my hand with her sticky sugar coated ones during recess. It seemed as if nothing could compare to her gapped tooth smile and messy hair. I remember thinking of our days as being the best thing in the universe, having endless fun and never growing tired of silly jokes and coloring.

If I ask you, “What is true love?” What would you say? What do you think true love is?

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.

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.