What is love?
Is love having a girlfriend that will perform sex acts on other people for money, then perform those same sex acts on you for free?
Is love the confidence that you can set your dove free, out into the world, out to explore the nether reaches of other gentlemen, knowing full well that she’ll return to you with exactly the same passion and exuberance she once departed with?
Could love be the sharing of finances? Finances that have been garnered through any means necessary, out of adoration for the other soul in your life. Finances handed over for the sake of the relationship, for the better of both of you. Finances that won’t just pay the bills, or put food on the table, or raise the kids, but also serve as a beautiful metaphor for two hearts beating as one.
Is love hanging out with one of your closest friends, having a conversation about life, knowing you’re baring all your emotions to this life-long confidant of yours, all while two willing females massage your respective genitalia with their mouths?
Can love take the form of a building — like the Eiffel Tower — or a marine mammal — like the walrus — when a relationship between you, your pal, and one heck of a talented female has been consummated out of legitimate ecstasy?
Is love worth going to jail for?
Is love worth sacrificing your reputation for?
Is love worth the risk?
Frankly, I don’t know what love is. I have loved, yes. I have been loved, yes.
But when it comes to love, your guess is as good as mine, as good as society’s, and as good as Venoy Overton’s.
I don’t know what love is and it’s not up to me to judge.
But I do know this. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, in all forms, in all actions. Love can be powerful, love can be subtle. Love can hurt, love can soothe, love can mend, and love can break.
In the end, however, love is a feeling, an emotion, and it should be treasured.
Let love, be love.