If Love Was A Pebble

     I’ve realized this ‘blog’ has turned less of a blog and more of me just jotting my thoughts down and getting them onto paper. Something about them floating around on the Internet instead of in my head gives me a bit of peace. I am plagued with most of my thoughts while I am driving. The conversation in my head snowballs with every question, and when I can’t find answers is when I feel I need to write. 

    Yesterday I thought to myself, what would it be like if feelings were inanimate objects or places? You know how they say “home is where the heart is”—implying home is where there is love—but what if it was the other way around? What if home was love and love wasn’t home; maybe that answers my previous question as to why we get attached to places. We are attached to things and places because they aren’t actually just things and places but so much more.

    What if love was a pebble? Would you keep it in your back pocket for a rainy day? Or if love was birthday candles, would you really feel its magic when you blew them out? Better yet, love is actually the cake, and you feel the warmth of it in your stomach turn into butterflies. I think that if love was a field I would lay in it all day, encompassed by it. But maybe you would prefer for love to be a road that you would never get tired of walking. The reality is love can be so many different things to so many different people, and that goes for all feelings and emotions. Fear is not just fear. Fear is the dark. Fear is death. Fear is blood. Fear is that road full of love one day ending.