“What is love ? What does it taste like ?”

No one ever told me what love meant to a person. But I did read stories , those romantic and touching stories, and i did watch movies , with many handsome gentlemen and graceful ladies acting preposterously . From those invaluable sources of information (according to my own opinion ) ,  I acquire that love is something intangible. It can’t be touched ,it can’t be seen ,and it can’t be thoroughly mastered by any professionals or experts or even psychologists; however , it can significantly create in your soul a remarkable upheaval of emotions and extreme feelings. Sometimes , it’s more simple than the most simple thing ever – it makes your heart skip a beat.I have always tried to reach the definition of love ,and in all my unrealistic dreams, i imagined, when you find what they consider ” true love ” , you will finally taste the kind of sweetness you can barely find in your childhood candies , or even in the sweetest thing ever in this galaxy – sugar. That kind of sweetness , diffusing into your heart just like the way the small stream silently running through the woods, would bring you smile ,give you shyness , and send you the most abstract feeling in the world -happiness. When you see “love”, I imagine , it would be like the first time you see snow with your eyes wide open and your lips trembling  because of  the bitterness of winter, touching the incredible feeling of softness and freshness. The eternal purity of snow from the very beginning of the season – Yes , that’s how love touches my heart.On the other hand, love may inevitably bring you tears. Not the kind of tears you would find anywhere in your memory, not the kind of tears that can be comforted by just some weird jokes , not the kind of tears that can be pacified by the warmth of one’s embrace, not the kind of tears that can be wiped out and easily forgotten by ordinary tissues. Tears of love encompass pain and sorrow. They have the power of giving your eyes the melancholy of flowers that are devoid of sunshine, or the despair of a child desperately left behind in a dilapidated orphanage….

But , is that love ? 


” The most distant way in the world  

   is not the distance across us

   It is when we are breaking through the way

   We deny the existence of love “

                 _ Tagore_ 

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