Love again.

You'd think love is black and white - either you love someone, or you don't. I love quite a few people, but when I compare that to how much I love my brother, it just pales in significance. I don't know - maybe the love I feel for my brother is real, true love, and what I feel for everyone else on the list is a tolerance of the their flaws. Or maybe I've misjudged this whole love business?

I know people do both great and awful things for love. And what do you get at the end of it? The knowledge that the person you love is safe and happy. In terms of survival on the savanna, it doesn't really mean much. So did cavemen-early-human-types not have love? Is it something that has just evolved with humans, like opinions and post-it notes? Or is it an actual THING? But I suppose that's like asking whether happiness is an actual THING. Does it exist on its own? Balance and justice (which is really just a form of homeostasis and Newton's third law) definitely exist.

Wait, I don't know what I'm talking about any more. Gah. 

Oh yeah, love. What is it exactly? Apart from the burning desire to put someone else's happiness before your own, I mean. But what about tough love? That doesn't necessarily make the person happy, but it ensures their safety and well-being. But wouldn't you want everyone to be happy and safe and educated and well? Because if everyone has those things, they wouldn't do bad things and in turn perpetuate any bad situations in life that may cause pain for those you love. 

Anyway. All I know is that I love my brother to the point where it breaks my heart. It's a sort of pain - like when you see or hear something so beautiful you want to scream and cry. And if you're supposed to love everyone like you love your brother, I'm going to suggest that maybe I'm not cut out for it. The emotional intensity is way beyond my tea-spoon capacity.

Peace and love,

S.