Romantic Love Essay

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.

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

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.

Not here though. Some time ago, these walls had witnessed love, romance, and passion, they indulged in it, breathing in the essence of love, to expel it upon the next occupants, to inspire them to continue the tradition.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry." He says sincerely. He said my name. He must be that guilty. He rarely says my name I sigh and turn around to cup his cheeks.

Society once visualized love as the cliché story of the princess falling in love with her knight in shining armor, but centuries later the subject expanded into a larger and broad category; such as family, friends, and pets. My personal definition of love is when someone changes for the greater good of someone else and the bond they both share. It is an emotion that grants society of hope and fulfillment in a complex and sentimental fashion. Couples of different genders and race have been this first thing that comes to mind for when it comes to love. That isn’t always the case for this empathetic and sympathetic passion. Besides couples, friendships, pet and master, and family are by far the least recognized forms of love, from parents raising their newborn baby to childhood friends attending each other’s wedding day. That fact alone of a group of people who treat each other with respect and support gives the meaning of love to a whole new different level.

Ranging between soothing lullabies and loud, rhapsodic thrillers, music is diverse. The ends of the spectrum typically never meet because they don’t mix well. Love, however, is like a symphony: constantly rising and falling, exquisitely unpredictable, but beautiful and unique, nonetheless. It's dissonant, yet still comes together to create something otherworldly. It’s rare to witness a love that makes one feel infinite. It’s even rarer to have this love last. When people are young, they are more likely to have small tastes of this love and are eager to pursue it in the future. I have been lucky enough to experience this symphony, and it really has changed my life.

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.

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

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 always dated guys that were bad news. I only started dating at eighteen and I'm twenty one now. The guys I dated were either into drugs, cheating, alcohol, or just not good for me. They got me in to some bad things.

Lying in his bed, secure in his arms I remember feeling like the words were literally at the tip of my tongue just waiting to pour out. “I love you”, I said, turning my body to face him. Nose to nose. “I love you too,” he said back.