Precursor: What Love Is

I can't speak for every Black man, or every man in general, but I will tell you what love is and how love feels to me.

Love is that feeling when you get in your car, cruise, and remember the times that you traveled those roads going to, or coming from the house of someone you have/had those feelings for. When you either let the windows down, or the top down and think of them at your side, or all of the drives you took together with them at your side, or you at theirs. When you play music that you played when they were besides you, or you were going to see them.

It is that feeling that you had on the first dates and times with them that when you remember, bring a nice smile and a warm thought to your chest, if not a hot rising somewhere else in you.

It is thinking of their voice as music, angelic pipes and knowing that you need to hear it again to calm you down and allow you to sleep peacefully.

It is when you hear a song that reminds you of a romance, or a romantic time that you had with them, for the music was there, or it embodies part of the dynamics of all your relationship, or just a snapshot in time of it.

Love is when you see the make and model of the car that they drive, not necessarily the color, and you try to glance at the driver to see if it is them.

It is seeing or hearing names of places that you have been and remembering having them there by your side, and reliving the experiences in your head as your lips start to curve into a smile that only you, and other people who feel love can truly understand the depth of.

Love is when you can wake up beside them, and desire to snuggle them closer. When you look into their eyes the morning after, and know that you want to spend immeasurable days, nights, months and years with them; when at that time you look, and feel content. Love is when you long to lay your head on their midsection, or their Venus mons, or have them laying their head on your chest. It is the feel of spooning them, or them spooning you, while finding the peaceful metronome of your intertwining spirits.

Love is when you accept them, curves, scars, imperfections, issues and all. Love is seeing the beauty within and not trying to change a person, but only trying to bring out the best in them as they will allow you too.

Love is that tickle in your heart, soul and mind when your eyes take in the world. When you see the smile on a baby's face, or small children playing. When you see an older sibling taking care of a younger one, or a younger one trying to take care of an older one. It is when you look in the faces of your elders and think about all the fun things they might have done in their lives, and you still see the pep in the them as they cut a rug, or just throw a little "when I was your age" escapade.

Love is not holding hands, but holding hearts. It is the duality of fire and calm after the storm; the ability to fall into each other's arms and souls after a tumultuous moment. To be able to kiss, caress, and hug the tension and differences of moments before away, knowing that in the end, you will be in their life as they will allow you, and they the same in turn.

Love has levels, and love has corollaries. Sometimes love is knowing you are not right for that person right now, or maybe never, because that spark is not there and never will be there. However, sometimes love is just taking the time and giving things a chance and seeing if that sparks exists and dealing with it according. It is allowing yourself to be open, and in that start to see what there is to see, and feel what there is to feel.

Love is sacrifice. It is feeling something special when you realize all that your mom has done for you, all the little things she got for you, when she was struggling with no support from anyone else, and wasn't making beaucoup dollars herself. It is recognizing the sacrifices that others made, friends, family, and people who never knew you, because they either believed directly in you, or in a concept. Love is sacrificing time, money, material possessions, and opportunities, if not your life, for someone or something else, because your heart was there.

Love is looking ahead, and looking back, as well as looking at now. It is when you remember the good times fondly, and when you remember the bad times, but look past them and keep going forward with them, because you see being with them as something special. It is awaiting the next time that you will be with that person, and wanting for it to be a special moment. It is trying to do better the next time and wanting to treat them as it might be the last time you are with them. It is knowing that you have today, for tomorrow is never promised.

Love is sometimes telling the truth, because the person needs to know. But love is also not revealing things, so as not to hurt the person. Love is the ability to make that call, and accepting the outcome nonetheless.

Love is trying to get it right the first time, for you have had experience in what not to do. Love is making up, and trying again, because we all make mistakes, and everyone is unique. Love is going back, with the impetus of going forward; closure of the past, but paving a new future. Love is knowing that you are not the only one who changes, or has changed, but also looking at the reality that other people can change as well.

Love is living, and trying, and getting back up repeatedly after the world and life keeps cutting you off at the knees.

Love can lift your spirits, or bring them down when you are not with the object of your affections. Love is pain, love is happiness, love is everything and love it eternal.

Love is something that I will never stop doing, until I am no longer here.