Love. Just a simple, four-letter word, but with such intricate and confusing meanings. We love our families, love God, love our pets, love chocolate, love our enemies. We take "love" and apply it to almost any thing, place, or person. But what about love love? You know, the kind for that significant other of the opposite sex?
The word love is being tossed around so much that it's lost its value. It seems like everyone's telling everyone else that they love them. Do they? Is this what love really means? What about the guy who has had nine girlfriends, saying "I love you" to each of them? Did he love them all? Does he still?
I want to take love back to its deepest, truest meaning. Love for that one other person; passionate love reserved for them only. More than physical attraction. More than short-lived infatuation. Perfect, Christlike love shared between one man and one woman.
So young man, don't you dare tell me you love me. I don't want to hear it. Don't let those three words come out of your mouth unless "Will you marry me?" is on its way next. And don't pop the question unless I know that you do love me. Save "I love you" for the one woman you marry. Make it passionate and pure. Let your love be true.
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