Paradoxes

It seems strange to love someone and miss them and yet still want them to be exactly where they are.

That is one of the paradoxes of love.

Love isn't measured by the pound.  It can't be bought, or divided, or split into equal parts.  It isn't just one thing -- except this grand open ended word that is used and misused so many times a day in so many different ways.

The deeper love is the richer it is and the richer it is, the more incomprehensible it becomes.

"I love you to the moon and back." "You mean the world to me."  "I'd give my right arm for you." 

Love is bigger than any of those finite things.  It isn't time, or space.  It isn't depth or breadth.  It isn't only feelings, or only actions, or any particular combination of things.

Love is a hybrid feeling unhampered by anything except me.

My ability to extend the idea of me beyond all other feelings, all other obstacles, all other needs and want the very best for a beloved makes it possible to love beyond reason, or need, or boundaries of any sort.

So those I love can live on the other side of the world, or with anyone else, or even not live, and I can bear the missing of them knowing they are happy and where they should be -- and knowing that my love for them is just as strong and real as it is when they are in my arms, because love is infinite.

Love is infinite in every way and every direction -- even those I do not understand.

It is the most unselfish selfishness I know.