What is love, really, as a noun, not the verb, "to love" but this -essence, "love" this thing that just IS?
I don't know, really. I suspect that it's something different for each, that this is how it is suppose to be, something endlessly mutable and individualistic, something perfectly sculpted by this utterly unique art of each and every heart.
Can I say, at least, that love is a whole which is always magnitudes greater than the sum of its parts?
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