by Kate Dowd

Created on: June 23, 2009

Sunday Kind of Love
A personal essay consisting of theories on what love means and explorations on the fear of remaining perpetually single.

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"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." Mother Teresa

What started off as a list for a fake personal ad a friend and I decided to write for ourselves, is now a composition of the questions and musings these lists inspired. Further observations of what society calls "love" and a few mishaps of my own in the dating realm also contributed to the thought processes of this essay. While I understand everyone has their own take on what love is and how to identify it, I'd like to take a stab at it myself, whilst addressing society's skewed views of love and reminiscing on some personal experiences as well.

I understand I may not be the most qualified person to speak on this matter, however, I feel like I have a duty to write it for the people I empathize with the most: for the ones who have nothing less than all the love in the world to give, and have shown, on numerous occasions, how capable they are of loving, and yet they have not found for themselves what they have readily and willingly given to those around them: pure, unwavering love. I write this essay with them in mind (and in heart), and hope they will find solace in knowing they are not alone in feeling the way they do, and that they are more than worthy of the love they dream of.

It's possible that this essay will seem whiney or mopey, with undertones of the "the woe is me" sigh, but that is not my intent for writing this. What my hope for this essay is that more people will begin to understand why these feelings exist, and maybe even begin to sympathize with the ones who feel so lonely and forgotten. After all, that is the job of a writer, isn't it? To allow for an expression of feelings and fervent beliefs in order to inform others that these feelings do exist, and that they should be observed and treated as gently as any other similar emotions. So that is my intent with this essay-not to gripe or moan about why "I can't have what he or she has"-but to open up a world of confusing thoughts and strong doubts, so that, in the future, we don't look at them with disdain, but with understanding and care.

"I want a Sunday kind of love; a love to last past Saturday night, and I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight. I want

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