Happy Valentine’s Day.

It’s my first Valentine’s day as a single person in six years.

I’m definitely feeling the… many words are coming to mind – loneliness, space, fear, freedom, possibility – and I’m not sure which one is right.

I’m spending my day writing. I’m immersing myself in self-exploration and goal-setting. But you can’t really goal-set around love. I’m powerless around love; this love culture.

What is love? What do I want in love? How will I know when I fall in love? What will it feel like? Will it be scary? Will I feel vulnerable or safe? Will I feel powerful or fearful? Will I feel joyful or angry? Will I toss and turn in my bed alone, or will the person I love be right there next to me?

I do not know the answer to a single one of these questions. Of course I don’t. It’s the future. It’s an experience I only know certain versions of, but there are so many other versions of love that I want to explore.

The desire for love makes me feel ridiculous. In moments of passion I make decisions that later feel so incredibly… stupid. How can you trust yourself in love? Love distorts everything. But maybe what I’m thinking about isn’t love. Maybe it’s only lust. Interest. Desire. Sex.

So what is love? And why am I so obsessed with this topic to begin with? What is it about the thought of being held, just held, by another person that seems to expand my spine and empty my stomach. Fear. Vulnerability. Those words keep coming up.

“It’s a very dangerous state. You are inclined to recklessness and kind of tune out the rest of your life and everything that’s been important to you. It’s actually not all that pleasurable. I don’t know who the hell wants to get in a situation where you can’t bear an hour without somebody’s company.”
– Colin Firth (more quotes about love by artists)

When I think about what I want in love, I imagine mutual respect, admiration, and curiosity – curiosity about who the other person is, and who they could become. I imagine simultaneous growth; engaged discussions about life, history, passion, and desire that last far into the night; laughter.

I imagine romance. Fingers brushing up against my cheek as my hair gets tucked behind my ear. Toes pressed up against the others as the pages turn in the book each partner is reading, each splayed out on opposite ends of the couch. The smell of coffee travelling up the stairs. Together, doing the impossible. Being there for each other for support, not need. The smile in their eyes when you walk into the room. Mutual. Always mutual. Love must go both ways. Giving and receiving. Holding and being held. Lifting and being lifted. Support.

“When your love comes… it could be short or long, but it will always be meaningful because it’s happening because you’re doing what you want. I think if you’re following your passion, you’ll always run into what you’re supposed to” shared Kyle TooTall Strauts in his latest post for Creative Life.

I’m inclined to believe that.

It’s scary to think about love. It’s scary and crazy vulnerable to write about it. It’s an unknown that always stays unknown. You can’t bottle. You can’t keep it forever, even in marriage. It’s an ethereal energy that we all crave, and sometimes taste. I think it might be the most important feeling in life. Next to creativity of course.