Sometimes I wonder, what is love? I typed that exact question into the google search bar today thinking I
might be able to find a straightforward, legitimate answer. I wish it was that easy, but contrary to today's
popular belief, google does not have the answer to everything. I walk the halls of my high school everyday
wondering about the people that past me. Have you ever seen someone for what they really are, and
couldn't stand to see them to pretend to be something else. That's how it is for me. But instead of me looking at someone else i'm staring straight at myself. The only time I haven't felt like I was pretending is when I feel
love. I can''t lie about this, I can't hide this, I can't pretend for this. That's why I ask again what is love?
What is this thing that can make me real? I can't count how many times love has changed my mind, made me
do something so incredibly irrational that I feel conflicted two minutes later. I'm only seventeen and I'm sure
people twice my age are still asking this same question, wondering the same things I do. The question will
probably still cross my mind but I feel sooner or later I will realize that the most satisfying answer is
ignorance. I will stick with the ignorance of the definition of love because of my fear. I fear it won't be
something as beautiful as I've imagined it. It may not be so real, so magical.Yes I have experienced hurt in
love but I haven't lost that hope that it is something unexplainable. Call me naive.
