Some people say that Love isn’t a noun. It is a verb. Even though according to the dictionary, love is a noun. And I myself think it is a noun, but not from grammatical point of view.
I think love is a noun because it is a ‘thing’. A living thing to be precise. And like any other living things, it changes. It grows, it moves, it develops, and, as if it breaths it could also stop breathing which means it could die and dissapear.
In order to have it, to keep it, you must nurture it, like a mother nurture a baby because it fragiles. Like a nurserer growing seedling, you have to be carefull because same as the plants, love is sensitive of lights, dark, water, and dirt. Love will shine if given enough care and nutrition everyday. What I mean with nutrition is compassion, attention, hope, forgiveness, trust, sacrifice and space. Lack of one of those might result, as in plants, a deformation or worse, it could die.
To keep love is not to confine it. You have to know when to drag it under the roof or to set it below the sunshine. If you put it behind the walls of you heart too long, it’ll looses it strength. Overexposing it to the light, then it’ll die drying. You need to figure the exact dose. I am still figuring.
You do not let love wondering around aimlessly. Love needs objectives. Every living things needs it. It is the most important thing. Once it loose it’s purposes, there is no way you can keep it.
I, am still redefining it’s purposes because as mention before, love changes. It also means love adapts. When it adapts, you may need to configure it, to recognize it all over, and to finally accept it again with all its newness.
If you think that what I wrote here is ridiculous: Hey, welcome to my world!