When in doubt about Love

Love is obviously a very difficult concept to define. It is sort of assumed as a legitimate idea that must refer to some aspect of meaningful interactions. Some suggest that without it we could never truly be or experience what we are; human beings. I say when in doubt about it, reflect upon the words of Pablo Neruda's poem "I do not love you" "I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep." Translated by Stephen Tapscott Anonymous Submission by Pablo Neruda Maybe it doesn't resolve the problem of the necessary existence of love, but it does provide hope.

...not fond of modern day just causes of war, I dig Wes Anderson, I am an analytic but appreciate deconstructive thought.
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