On Love

I was once asked to write about love. A philosophical question, really. He asked not what is love? But rather, "what is love to you?" 
It's funny, because I'm a hopeless romantic. I love love. Yet, I had no idea how to respond to his question. 

I loved him. 
Yes, loved. Past tense. Maybe still present, but him and I are over...not that we were ever official to begin with, but feelings were deep. Deeper than any of my real relationships.
I haven't spoken about him much. Maybe hinted about him from time to time, but nothing so openly as other things in my life. But, it's been 4 months since we last spoke and I'm still hurting. I suppose I should tell you his name, but apart of me wants to keep that to myself. Instead, I'll call him L.

Fuckboys. No, not a verb and a noun. I meant "fuckboys," the new term which literally means how it sounds. They are the new men of this generation that do whatever it takes to fuck a girl, and then when they get what they want, they ghost* you.

L isn't a fuckboy. I just wanted to clarify. Now that L is no longer in my life, I'm dating. I suppose I've been dating on and off for the past three years and for those past three years all I see are fuckboys. Everywhere. And maybe that's why I can't answer the question. Because I don't believe in love anymore.

I did at one point in time, because I loved him. I loved him with my whole heart. I envisioned a life with him and for once, I felt a sense of peace. A sense of safety. A place to call home? Is that what real love is? Is that what that is supposed to feel like?

I loved others before L, but to me this one was different. This one was deeper than physicality or lust. It was refreshing. I was known.

Now it's over, and I'm even more lost than before. Because I thought I had it, right there in the palms of my hands. I thought I had everything. I thought that life had meaning.

Dating seems pointless, but I do it anyway. To get out of my head, to get over L, to do something different. But all it does is make me realize how much I don't love love. And as much as I yearn for it, I've lost the ability to believe that it truly exists.

So maybe that's what love is to me. Something that might not exist.

*Ghost you - quietly disappearing and never talking to you ever again because they don't give a fuck.