This entry is actually a reply for my brother’s question on his weblog. Initially I had wanted to just put it in his comment but seeing that my comment was so long, I decided to just put it up here instead.
I believe that the word love itself mean different things to different people. It is like defining beauty. There is no one definition that everyone will accept.
I think the word “love” is used a lot simply because some people don’t know any other way to express pleasure or even extreme liking. They may say “I love chocolate” simply because saying “I like chocolate” doesn’t define the amount of joy they get out of eating it. Love is a word people understand better.
Our emotions are far more complex than we give them credit for. We tend to try to oversimplify them, and put them into nice, neat packages, that we think we understand, probably because we DON’T understand them. Maybe we never will.
For me, the love (of a person), is when their happiness/well-being is more important to me than my own happiness.
Even though we are human, love makes us feel like we can fly. It makes us happy. We are like birds that can’t fly. Yet we try to anyway. We know it may cause pain and sorrow, but it always has its price. There’s is always that hope of flying. Because when we are up there falling, all we can hear is the wind blazing past our ears, and nothing more. No worry. No pain. No sorrow. Nothing.
It may not last and it may cost us our lives in the end, but it is worth it.