What’s true for me today is …
I don’t know when I first understood the meaning of love. I want to. I’m trying. In fact, I’ve been working on an essay though I don’t know the answer (it’s for the Fourth Annual Real Simple Life Lessons Essay Contest).
In fact, I am starting to feel a bit weird about myself. Is this normal? Can most people name a specific time or situation from which they first understood the meaning of love? Should I be concerned?
Hmmm … I think I’m a bit hung up on the term “understand the meaning.” It seems more consequential than just “When did you first understand love?” or “When did you first know what love is?” Know what I mean?
I mean, as an adult I think I should know the answer to this, but every time I sit down to work on my essay, I think of an incident here, a passing memory there–nothing of real consequence.
Perhaps it is because my experience is different. Perhaps it is because the first time I understood the meaning of love was the first time I felt a real absence of love (don’t worry; I didn’t stay “there” too long).
Lots to contemplate …………..