If you read 1 John you'll see that love of God and neighbour are very closely tied together. Partly this is because all humans are made in God's image, so that when you love another human you are loving someone who is reflecting God himself. Of course there is a distinction but the minute you try to drive a wedge between the two things start to fall apart.
Does loving someone mean you want them to be safe? Or that you want them to be able to choose?
Loving someone condemns you to a lifetime of fear. You become painfully conscious of how fragile people are - bundles of brittle bones and vulnerable flesh, breeding grounds for billions of deadly germs and horrible diseases.
I've discovered new parts of my manhood, places I couldn't get to without loving someone else unconditionally and putting others before myself.
The paper, the stapler, the staples, the tape. It makes me sick. Physical things. Forty years of loving someone becomes staples and tape.
If you must choose between loving someone and acting so that they feel loved, always choose to love them.
I am coming to terms with the fact that loving someone requires a leap of faith, and that a soft landing is never guaranteed.
You have to have courage to love somebody. Because you risk everything. Everything.
Loving someone who doesn't love you back is like hugging a cactus. The tighter you hold on, the more it's going to hurt.
How do I get past my fears? Make a life for myself? Risk loving someone? When death is all that waits for you, what's the point in trying to have a life?
The thing about loving someone is that you have to love them the way they need to be loved and not the way you want to love them.
Even if we're in a state of hopelessness, a sense of expectation is an integral part of our relationship to time. Hopelessness is possible only because we do hope that some good, loving someone could come. If that's what Heidegger meant, then I agree with him.
Relationships carry the whole universe within them. They can be everything, nothing, here, then gone. One moment, loving someone makes you shine; the next, it feels like matter and antimatter colliding.
There's a pleasure to loving someone even when you know there's no chance in them loving you back. The pain I felt let me know I was still alive.
If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?
More than anything, I felt the unfairness of it, the inarguable injustice of loving someone who might have loved you back but can't due to deadness, and then I leaned forward, my forehead against the back of Takumi's headrest, and I cried, whimpering, and I didn't even feel sadness so much as pain.
A good marriage is loving someone in a lot of different circumstances. Respect for them and their views and ideas and the life that they're leading with you. Shared values and interests. A good sense of humour. And a little volatility along the way.
Maybe that was the price of loving someone: You lost your grasp of where they ended and you began.
As the old saying goes, "sometimes loving someone means letting them go.
I think loving someone, despite what people think, is FEARLESS. <3
