I write about love a lot.
I'm not sure when it began, actually, but at some point in the summer before I met the professor, I decided that I would share at least one message of love with the world every single day. I know it sounds corny and perhaps, yes, even a little bit silly, but I decided that if I woke up and vibrated love outwards, with no other intention than just to send it on wings to ripple in whatever way it may, well, then I was starting my day with love and that could only be good for me.
In 140 character blips and bleeps, I send pieces of my heart cloaked with bits of glitter out to the universe and hope for the best.
Love comes in all shapes and sizes. It can't be defined easily. We can't box it up like chocolates, stick a bow on it and deliver it on a random Thursday in February saying, "Here, have some love." Except, that we can. There are recipients of cards and boxes of chocolates and roses who absolutely feel loved. There are random strangers who pay for the coffee of all those standing behind them just because one day, long ago, someone paid for theirs and they want to continue the kindness, to share the love. There is the man who becomes a father with the adoption of an abandoned baby and who knows the moment he sees her that he could never let anything happen to his little girl. There is the woman who hugs abandoned dogs fiercely, giving them shelter and food, knowing that those dogs love her just as much as she loves them. There is the lesbian couple who has loved one another for twenty-five years and rasied a family of beautiful children. There is the woman who brings warm cookies and knit hats to the internet friend she has never met until this moment in the hospital. There is the small boy who sings songs to the elderly in the assisted living facility because it might make them smile. There is the teenage girl who makes sandwiches for the homeless every Tuesday afternoon. There is the woman who stands on the corner, right here in Salt Lake, and hugs strangers, just because, all day long.
Love.
Last Thursday, more than a dozen gay couples applied for a marriage license here in Salt Lake City, to Stand on the Side of Love. They knew going in that they'd be denied because same-sex marriage is illegal in Utah and the Utah constitution was even ammended in 2004 to define marriage as between only a man and a woman. After living here, in this state, for nearly 5 years, I'm going to admit that I've actually learned a lot more about politics here than I have in any other state where I have lived before and that things here are truly never what they seem.
It was a brave action for these couples.
It shouldn't be up to us, honestly, to define how or whom anyone should love. Love can not be defined by words in a constitution, by government policies, nor by nine judges on a Supreme Court.
Love just doesn't understand or bend to written opinions.
At least the love I know never has and it never will.
