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What is love, really?
Sometimes, I think love is like this picture — an idea you hang on to for dear life. It’s a rough resemblance of prettier, more well-imagined things, but somehow manages to keep us afloat. Sometimes it seems a desperate sketch, etched against the dirty backdrop of a life filled with mistakes. We hope it is passible, and wonder if it is the best we can hope for. Maybe those sketches are realism, and the books and movies and stories told by our grandparents are just like the social media we scroll through everyday — just snippets of the best parts. It makes us wonder — what should love look like? What makes it real? I have been a part of a love story for the last five years. It’s one of those ones that feels really important and beautiful. But also one that lacked in significant ways that left me wondering if I was asking too much. What was realistic to expect? In short, what kind of love do I want, and is it even possible?
I am struggling in part, because my boyfriend and best friend over the last 5 years of my life, just broke up with me. And though I could go into details of why and how sad it was for both of us, the larger question I am wrestling with is what does it speak about my worth? I’m writing about it because that is a common worry, right? Am I a tragic figure outside of finding someone to love me? Is it better to hold on to a dirty sketch of what love might be than to release it and embrace the…