This Perfectly Imperfect Love

Can anyone really explain what love is?

I’m sure we’ve all been influenced by books, movies and songs on what love is. We were brainwashed. We were lied to or at least shown the partial truth of how love is. Most of them only show the good side of being in love. The honeymoon phase. But no one tells us that love isn’t and won’t always be good.

Love is scary. Giving our time and effort to someone that could disappear in a heartbeat. Talking to someone for hours and hours could someday stop. All the trust we give to someone could be broken. We are afraid of love. But eventually, we have to face our fears of giving love and being loved. When the right person comes along, we’ll want to face that fear. Because they’ll make us feel safe and secure.

Love is a gamble. A risk. But wouldn’t you want to see if it’s worth it? It could be worth more than all the heartbreaks and tears shed in the past combined. We could risk everything for love and get more than what we wanted and needed.

I’ve always believed that love isn’t always fairytales, rainbows and happy endings. Love is work; working things out and making things work. It sounds boring and tiring. For the right person, it won’t be. The right person won’t make it feel like work or a chore. Because it would come naturally and our instincts will kick in. Love would be a partnership. Not a game where somebody wins and somebody loses. Both will have to do their part especially when the other. There will be fights. It will all be because of love. Love is worth fighting for.

Love won’t be easy and there will be times where we’ll want to leave and quit. But that’s why love is a choice. People say we don’t choose who we fall in love with or when we fall in love. The heart wants what it wants. But, we always have a choice. We could choose to stay in love or to fall out of it. If it’s the right person, we’ll choose them with no doubts and hesitations in staying. We won’t have any second thoughts and regrets on why we stayed. At the end of the day, we choose love.

The love that’s perfectly imperfect.