This is a letter to you, a person who is afraid to love.

We have long been blinded. It’s a propaganda that tarnished a beautiful truth, making us shy away from it as if it had some sort of contagious disease. We can’t blame them; they have given and lost. They bled dry of this marvelous feeling so that even sweet kisses formed a bad taste in the mouth, the warmth of embrace makes them cringe and shudder.

It was society who implied that love is a currency; something which can either be owed or repaid. For something so strong, so chaotic, there must be a kind of balance. It’s like putting fire inside a box and letting it stay there. Well, as if fire can be subdued.

I can’t lie to you; we humans enjoy a barter of feelings. We sell words and praises with the anticipation of getting them in return, hopefully from the same person. Emotions are investments. If the outlay looks bleak, we’d rather not venture giving anything at all.

But I’ve got news for you: love is not giving and taking. Love is giving. Just giving. And it does not involve pennies. It involves sweat, blood and tears. It involves all you’ve got and it cannot be given in parts.

Thus we come into a conclusion: a good love has only two options. It must be none, or it must be whole.

Love is relentless, unforgiving and willful. It’s like the huge flame that eats up all the trees down the hill, as long as the wind blows through. It lashes like the ocean wave, engulfing every floating object and drowning it deep down in a liquid embrace. Love is limitless. It spurs out everything on its path until its force dissipates in the air.

So keep that money in your pocket. Love is not currency. It cannot be held back. It knows no balance. It just gives and gives.

But here’s one truth: a good love balances everything.


I must tell you about that love.

It’s a love that waits for you, a love that cries for you, a love that prays for you. A love that whispers words of assurance in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, watching you with a vacuum gaze.  A love that is devoted to stay beside you even when the closest to you leaves; like a shadow, it chooses you. It sticks with you. It’s a love that reaffirms your beauty, your worth, even when you feel like a terrible mess. A love that is more than believing. It’s a love that accepts.

There’s a love like that. And surprisingly, it could come from you.

My dear, you are created to live, and you are created to love. It’s for that purpose that you have heart beats, you make sighs, you write poetry and you sing songs. There’s beauty in life all because of this one word, and you are capable of giving that.

Dear friend, I hope you won’t wait for a time until they learn to love you back. I hope you won’t linger with wanting of being given it in return. I hope you learn to give off your feelings, wild, free, like a heavy out pour of rain. I hope you won’t be afraid of having your store of love run out, because the truth is, it’s a currency that never runs dry. I hope you realize that it will always be replenished, because a love as big as the universe has already been given to you.

And you can’t, ever, measure the universe.