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Love

This should be the easiest to write. Something about love.

It's what all the best songs are about.

It's both the most universal and the most personal thing.

It's too big.

I guess I would say, that it feels like an odd mix of exhilaration and safety - of feeling like you're home. Like you can do anything, because you're loved. You're lighter and you're stronger. There's a sense of enduring pride. And caring so much it feels consuming - you have purpose: to understand and to make things better. To just be. Together.

And it's too hard to write about because it's wrapped up in people. It can't be shared.

So I tried to write something fictional, and I don't think I like it but I'll share anyhow, in the name of sticking to a challenge through anxiety.



She throws back her head and laughs. A big laugh. A cackle that teases into a giggle into a smile, before she erupts again. Struggling to breathe.

Her eyes are squinting and I see a filling in one of her back molars I've never clocked before and I feel this twinge of, something. It can't be love - I barely know the girl. I think it's warmth. Comfort. Honesty. Something.

We didn't mean to do the whole meet the family thing this early, or I didn't at least, but it happened. And they're talking, her and her sister, about some trip they took, and I don't even get why it was all so funny but it was, to them.

I've never seen her like this. She's usually so composed. Not indifferent, but not involved.

But here she is.

And I look back and know now why it was confusing.

Love feels like home. I thought it was just being around a family but it wasn't. It feels like home and like you're safe. And there's no one else around and it's a bit messy but it's yours, it's shared.

And if you didn't question that safety, you'd be insane.



Written as part of Cassy Fry's DIYCreativeClub challenge.

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