love

Love.

It’s a beautiful word, isn’t it?

But there is a vast difference between what is described by this word and what I see. When "love" is mentioned, everyone uses the same word, but they do not experience the same thing. You can ask on the street; most people will say they love their country. If you ask whether they love their child, the answer is again mostly the same: I do.

Then if we love so much, why are we like this?

You can see someone who says they love their country throwing trash on the ground. You can see someone who says they love their country never criticizing or questioning anything, accepting whatever they are told as the truth. Is this love? Does loving mean not objecting? Does loving mean remaining silent?

There is a sentence often used by parents who say they love their child: “We would set the world on fire for you.” Well, do you actually see any worlds burning? When dozens of young people were being crushed and killed, when did the mothers come together? When the forests were burning and the places to breathe were vanishing, who took to the streets?

The word love comes out of the mouth so easily. Dozens of people who say “I love you” can kill the ones they love with those same words. Possession is mistaken for love. Control is mistaken for love. Silencing, suppressing, and causing harm are mistaken for love.

Was this love?

I truly wonder.

Could it be that you do not love?

Or could it be that what you know as love is not love at all?