Love. Some people think of it as a big-booty girl with a short skirt while others picture a man with a muscular chest driving a nice car. Most people oooh and ahh when someone openly shows affection to another person or they call you whipped because you actually want to spend time and respect the person you are with. Even though all the real men and gold diggers out there may not admit it, we all have someone we love, someone that has perhaps captured our spirit like no other. That love is only fully acknowledged, it seems, on one day a year. I do not want to generalize, but I have heard so many people complain about having to figure out some way to honor those they love that it leaves me to wonder in what frame of mind love exists these days.

Sometimes I feel as though love does not exist at all. Perhaps it got washed away somewhere mixed up with the false identities the media wants us to portray. Love is OK as long as it doesn’t get in your way That is the message I get from the media.

It is common place, as it has been for quite awhile, to have one-night stands, to hit the clubs with one intent to get laid and to just lose the number of your victim with part of yourself the next morning. To be mesmerized by the curves of flesh and your own itching groins, which end up being displayed in your hungry, lustful eyes.

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Am I exaggerating? I wish, but what I see when I hit the parties and clubs on those rare occasions that I go is the biggest scene of self-hate that I have ever experienced. I leave engulfed in confusion, searching to understand why someone would want to live this way.

I guess I am just soft, but love has always been one of the biggest influences in my life. I have lived my life on love, in all its spectrums of possibilities, good or bad. I have never turned my back on my heart. If that makes me weak in many of your eyes then so be it I could care less what you think. All I know is every step I take is built on the emotion I feel toward this or that. Some might think that I am putting myself on a pedestal, but I am not trying to. It just saddens me to see such a lack of morality among the masses.

Every morning I wake up with an angel lying by my side whose soft face mirrors everything I wish to be. I love her more than myself sometimes, and I just wish others could find the same feelings about someone as I do when I think of her. I want to build so much with her, and what is funny is that I feel this way every single day, not just on Feb. 14.

To me love is just not a sweet song or a rose. It is a presence inside you that stretches to every facet of your life. Once love is forgotten so is everything else. Let us not let that happen.