The Great Existence of Love

A lot of people out there seem to have the general idea that love – being in love – does not exist. It’s a false feeling, a fading feeling. But I think that if you really believe that, you’d have to have the gaul to walk up to billions of different people from all over the world – people who’ve been through a hell of a lot more together than you could possible conceive – and you would have to be able to look each of them in the eye, and say “You’re wrong. You aren’t feeling what you think you feel. It doesn’t matter if you’d die for someone, or if you’ve been happily married for 50 years, or if you wake up every day glad to be next to that person. I’ve got it all figured out. And you’re mistaken.” 

To say that love, particularly lasting love, does not exist is in my opinion the single most sweepingly absurd statement in the world. Because the statement suggests that you have met and spoken to every single person on this planet, and that despite what many of them might say, you are certain you know better than they do. 

And it would seem to me that at that point you’re far too busy believing you’re right to possibly believe in anything else. 

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