One day, many years after the rise of modern man, life suddenly decided that it wanted “love” to be written down, once and for all. “But,” said life, “a writer needs great inspiration to create something so beautiful; and inspiration equally needs a writer’s gentle touch to bring its own subtle poetry into being.”
So life conspired to bring both of these elements into the world, in the hopes that they might someday meet, and together, explore the true meaning of the word “love” for one final time.
Whether and when they would meet was in no way certain. In fact, it was distinctly uncertain. But life wanted “love” to inspire, and “love” only inspires when it’s shared.
So one day, the two lovers met. They didn’t know it at the time, but their love was actually a gift; as though the world conspired to bring them together, if only to share that love with the world.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that it takes more than one person to accomplish our dreams, to achieve our full potential, to pass on our good fortune and to discover our true destiny. But love always reminds us that doing things alone is never as satisfying as doing them with someone else; someone who shares our deepest and innermost desires and our highest personal dreams; someone who understands the power and beauty of trust; someone whose purpose in life is somehow tied to your own; and someone whose purpose in love is somehow tied to your heart.
And when the two lovers finally met — when the writer was finally inspired and that inspiration was finally written down — only then was life content. Only then was “love” first understood. Only then was the world at peace.