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Thoughts from a realistic female

Who on earth is qualified to say what the definition of true love is? As individuals we each have our own preconceived ideals on the answer to this question. In these modern times, when love is fallen into swiftly and disregarded with our other countless suitcases full of emotional baggage, it would seem that true love is rapidly becoming the holy grail of human emotions.

We all want it, we all at some time in our lifetimes search for it; we see it in others around us but sometimes fail to realize when we have actually found it.

True love differs for everybody; it is dependent upon our own selfish needs and our ability to put those needs to one side at times to allow somebody else into the privacy of our lives. We put ourselves through countless emotional strains and heartaches whilst on the quest to find this diamond of human feeling, when we really only need open our eyes and look into the faces of our family, our parents, our children. It is there that the truest, purest love resides.

True love is easiest felt, I think, for our children, the joy that you feel when your child is born, their first smile, when you realize that they can see you and know who you are, when they fall asleep in your arms and you think that you may never put them down again. Children play our heartstrings as if they were strung on a harp, they are the very essence of love, they are angels, innocent and untainted by the harsh reality that is adulthood.

I cannot speak for the rest of the population, so I will share my perception of true love with you. I will begin with the actions first.

In my eyes, true love is waking up next to your partner and kissing him anyway, even though his breath stinks! It is picking his socks up from underneath the bed (they ran there themselves because he's been wearing them for a week); it is not breaking wind under the covers and pulling them over your partners face so that you can 'share the glory'! It is emptying his pockets before you put the wash on because he can't manage to throw his tissues into the bin; it is giving him back the money that you found whilst doing this and not putting it towards your shoe fund. It is cooking his tea after a long day at work so that you know he has eaten at least one decent meal that day; it is asking him 'how was your day' even when you know that he will bore you half to death with talk of football, tyres and engines and what the boys said at work. It is letting him have the remote

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