What is Love

What is Love

“Once, I saw a bee drown in honey, and I understood.” – Nikos Kazantzakis

The small clock on the mantelpiece wearily ticked away each sorrowful second, as she slowly collapsed to the floor. Her eyes bulged, dry and red, irritated from the lack of moisture. She had cried herself to sleep, then cried when she woke up. Her tears had become a routine, a daily workout for her tear glands. It was impossible for her to cry anymore. So now, she lay on the floor keeping an eye on the clock. She was waiting, perhaps in vain, for proof. Proof that she hadn’t been a fool all these years.

What was love?

She had believed love was passion. Love was a spark. Love was tension, a thick attraction that could be sliced with a knife. She thought of the moments when he held her. The surge that she felt flow through her nerves, almost like electricity, that must be love. Whenever she saw him, she saw a future of passion and satisfaction. She saw love.
But as she lay on the floor, the sixth day of his sudden absence, she wasn’t so sure anymore. She was sure that you couldn’t just leave someone you loved for days on end without as much as a text or a note. Especially a week after your marriage. She remembered pledging a lifelong allegiance of faithfulness and love, glittering in her silvery-white dress and reveling in the applause from her family. Now she couldn’t help wishing she could take it back. She should have seen the signs, the subtle signs of this fuck-up coming. She never truly felt happy around him. Above the physical, he never knew how she felt, or how to make her happy. He did try, but every date was what he wanted and what he found fun.

Love had to be synonymous with happiness. Waking up to someone who cared about how you felt. Someone who’d go out and buy you food on a whim, or give you flowers, or even tell you ‘you look beautiful’ a million times a day. Love had to transcend the attraction. It had to provide satisfaction.

She felt she would answer that question with time, but when he returned to her three days later, mouth full of apologies, she felt that familiar rush of passion and forgot all about her previous thoughts.

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