A few minutes ago, my friend Jesse put me on the spot when he asked me the almighty question, What is love? I replied him that I have no idea.
Too many times, I have been told that I have never experienced true love because by default I do not miss people. I have always been like that. As a child, growing up in the care of my parents, I was that way. At least, that was what mom told me. As a teenager in boarding school, dad would chide me for not writing home. I simply went on with my life once they dropped me at school and drove off. As an adult, I cultivated the habit of deliberately keeping in touch with people around me. But by default, I am a loner. I am the kind of person who will naturally keep to myself, not because anything is wrong between us. That is just my default state. And when something is wrong, ah! Effortlessly do I face front.
So, I am told that true love means that you miss someone or people. I am told that true love means finding someone that you cannot live without (or at least feel that way about). Unfortunately, I have no such person. There goes any claim of mine to true love. Based on that point of view, it means that I have never truly loved my parents, siblings, wife, children or friends. Never mind that I have given up personal dreams for some of them, inconvenienced myself, emptied my bank account, bent over double in many scenarios, and have been generally there for them more than many others have been. No; I am pretty much certain that I am incapable of true love.
I am the wrong person to ask about love. I have no flipping idea what it is.