If love did not exist, I would be so goddamn sane.
I am standing in the kitchen, cutting rich green broccoli on a wooden chopping board. The window is shut. Somewhere they is violet. But the smell of broccoli fills our noses.
We open the window to let in fresh air. We eat. We throw away. No broccoli left. Once everything is clear. And only then in clarity, can we smell the sweet sensations of violet. It gives so much love, but often goes unnoticed.
The violet needs to be nurtured. It blooms. It breathes. It lives. But without support and care, it cannot give anything. If we don't take care of it, it will not grow. It will die. It will be darkness. It is a rich purple violet flower that blooms in a small brown pot. It sits quaint against the kitchen wall. Overlooking everything. Silent. Bold. Beautiful. Hidden.
It takes guts to tremble. And It takes so much tremble to love. Every first date is an earthquake. Every family fued is a torrential storm. The ups and downs. Nothing simple. Unconditional.
Unconditional love. A dream for most. A reality for few. What we don't realise is who is even able to give it to us. Not just anyone. Not friends. Not even family. Only you can give it to yourself.
Some people may go their entire lives never finding their violet. Others bloom young. The scents fluctuate. Coming and going. Death and Life. Reborn. But how can we love ourselves when surrounded by such negativity. Media tells us how to look. What to wear. Even what we're doing wrong. We constantly seek something different. Never satisfied with what we've got.
I have wild curly brown hair. Dark brown eyes. A pear shaped body. Small petite feet. And a strong cute smile. By telling myself this, perhaps I can start the journey of search, find and seek.
Unconditional love, affection without any limitations, or love without conditions. It is associated with true love. But if you can't love yourself, how can you expect anyone else to?