Love Persists

“I see your clothes in the closet

I hear your phone ring in the drawer

I’m not hoping for an answer

I’m just knocking at your door”

- OneRepublic, “Choke”

Love, in its truest form, takes on a life of its own. It has nothing to do with what you persevere through, or what you allow, but what you maintain to spite your more selfish tendencies. When there is that voice below all, at the center of all, that fights for someone’s wellbeing even in the quiet of inaction, that is when love exists — in some form — at its best. When it starts to rest on not what you do, or would do, but what you wish done even in your absence, that is when it has proven itself.

We can always hope more than we can do. And we can always do more than we should. But in those times when you can do nothing, and your desire for goodness remains even in an absence of your participatory hand, that is when you know that love is truly alive. You are participating in it; it did not create itself in you. And therefore, it persists. In moments of silence, indecision, grief, hopelessness, helplessness, anger, it persists. In spite of you. Therefore, it is real.