Love, a Ghost in the Static

Love, a Ghost in the Static

I carved my heart from starlight once—

a fragile compass, all directions you.

But human hands, so warm, so cold,

turned constellations to confetti,

scattered my orbit into ash.

You wore love like a storm,

thunder in your throat, lightning in your lies.

I built a spaceship from my ribs

to save your world, while yours

sank into the bedrock of my bones.

They say you took what love could teach—

its grammar of trust, its syntax of grace—

then wrote a different story:

I was the page, you the fire,

and all my words turned to smoke.

You were my father’s shadow, draped

in cologne and half-kept promises.

I learned to bleed in two languages,

to pray through clenched fists,

to name my scars after the men

who couldn’t love me whole.

Now I whisper to the moon:

Is this what it means to be human?

To want, and want, and leave a ghost?

I can’t remember if I dreamed

of you or if you were a wound

that learned to bleed itself alive.

Some nights, I still reach for the thread

between our fractured constellations—

but the stars only hiss, Not here, not now.

Maybe love is just a language of the dying,

a code I’ll never crack.

I sleep in the dialect of what’s left:

a body once given, now a map of ruins.

The wind has all my verses.

Ask it, if you dare—if you can bear

the weight of a love that was

never meant to be held.

"The Biology of Us"

"The Biology of Us"

"The Biology of Us"

Before words were carved in stone or song,

Before the first fire sparked against the night,

Our bodies knew—deep in the ancient code—

That we were never meant to walk alone.

Not just to breed, nor simply to survive,

But to hold, to touch, to gaze and feel the hum

Of something deeper than the pulse of blood:

A signal glowing in the neural dark—

Dopamine, bright as a starburst,

When your hand brushes mine by accident.

It’s chemistry, yes—oxygen and flame—

But meaning, too. Oxytocin spills

Like honey through the veins when you lean close,

And the world, so sharp with its edges, softens.

Stress dissolves. The amygdala quiets.

I am safe. I am seen. I am known.

This is no mere craving, no fleeting fire—

It’s evolution’s tender, shrewd design:

To bind us, heal us, lift the weight of being,

To make two hearts beat stronger than one.

In your arms, cortisol fades to dust;

In your breath, I find my homeostasis.

We call it love—this urgent, soft collision—

But underneath, our neurons sing a truth:

We need each other not just for joy,

But to live. To breathe. To be. To stay.

So when I kiss you, trembling, slow, and sure,

It’s not just passion—though that burns as well—

It’s survival. Sacred. Written in the cells.

You are my balance, my reward, my breath—

My body’s answer to the ancient call:

Stay. Belong. Be loved. And live well.

Welcome to a Journey Through the Heart of Love

Welcome to a Journey Through the Heart of Love

Love. Just one word—but it’s a force that has moved mountains, rewritten destinies, and whispered hope into the darkest nights. It’s the reason civilizations rise and souls find their purpose, the untamed wildfire that transforms hearts and reshapes lives. On this blog, we’re diving deep into the essence of love—not just the kind you find in a fairytale romance or a Hallmark card, but all its wild, messy, glorious forms: the love that binds families, the love that forgives when we’re at our lowest, the love that compels us to reach beyond ourselves, and the divine love that many say is the heartbeat of the universe.

For me, love is more than a feeling—it’s a compass. It’s the quiet voice that steers us toward better choices, the courage to change our minds when we’re lost, and the sacred power that, I believe, can save souls. It’s there in the first breath of creation, woven into the teachings of Jesus, who modeled love so radical it still shakes the world today. It’s the love God pours out like a river, and the love we’re called to reflect—flawed, persistent, and holy.

 I’ll be sharing stories that moved me, poems that try to name the unnameable, and reflections on how love has shaped my own journey. We’ll explore its joys and aches, its ordinary moments and life-altering miracles. I’ll be honest about the times I’ve failed to love well—and the grace that always follows when we try again.

This isn’t just a blog. It’s an invitation to walk with me, to sit at the feet of love’s greatest mysteries, and to ask the questions that matter most: What does it mean to love deeply, to love fiercely, to love as if our lives—and the world—depend on it?

So, grab a cup of coffee or a quiet moment, and let’s begin. Whether you’re here for inspiration, connection, or just a fleeting thought about the human heart, you’re welcome. Together, let’s let love guide the way.

✨ Let the journey begin.

The Symphony of Love: Science, Philosophy, and the Human Heart

The Symphony of Love: Science, Philosophy, and the Human Heart

Love is not a single note in the orchestra of human experience but a symphony—a complex interplay of rhythm, harmony, and dissonance that resonates across time, culture, and the very biology of our beings. It is the spark of passion, the quiet constancy of devotion, and the selfless leap into the unknown, all woven into a single, ineffable thread that binds us to one another. To understand love is to trace the contours of what makes us human, from the neurochemical dance in our brains to the ancient yearnings etched into philosophy, and from the choices we make to the connections we nurture.

The Biology of Longing

At its most fundamental, love is a biological phenomenon, a biochemical alchemy that transforms strangers into partners and fleeting attractions into enduring bonds. When we fall in love, our brains become a theater of activity: dopamine floods reward centers, creating euphoria and obsession; serotonin plummets, explaining love’s addictive pull; and oxytocin, the “cuddle hormone,” surges during touch, fostering trust and attachment. These chemicals are not mere random players—they are evolution’s tools, designed to bind us in pairs long enough to raise children, yet flexible enough to morph into the steady, companionate love of decades. But science reveals more than mechanics; it whispers that love is both primal and purposeful, a survival strategy that also transcends survival.

Sternberg’s Triangle: The Psychology of Wholeness

Psychologist Robert Sternberg’s triangular theory of love offers a lens to dissect its many faces. At its core are three elements: intimacy (the emotional closeness of sharing vulnerabilities), passion (the fiery drive of physical desire and romance), and commitment (the conscious choice to love through time). A relationship glowing with all three is “consummate love,” the ideal many seek but few sustain. Yet Sternberg’s model also acknowledges life’s messy realities—romantic love without commitment may flicker and fade, while empty partnerships built solely on commitment lack joy. Love, here, is not a static state but a dynamic balance, a triangle that must be continually redrawn through empathy, communication, and choice.

Love in the Garden of Philosophies

Long before science and psychology, ancient thinkers grappled with love’s essence. The Greeks, ever the classifiers, named its many forms: Eros, the intoxicating, sometimes reckless passion of romance; Philos, the joy of friendship and shared growth; Storge, the deep, unspoken bond of family; and Agape, the selfless, universal love that transcends personal desire—a force seen in maternal sacrifice or spiritual devotion. Plato, in The Symposium, framed love as a ladder ascending from physical desire to philosophical connection, while Eastern traditions often viewed it as an extension of harmony with the cosmos. These philosophies remind us that love is not one thing—it is a spectrum, shaped by culture, purpose, and the human spirit’s endless quest for meaning.

The Alchemy of Action

Love’s truest measure lies not in how we feel, but in how we act. Empathy becomes the bridge to another’s inner world; selflessness, the language that proves our care; and commitment, the daily practice of showing up, even when the music grows quiet. Consider the parent who forgoes sleep to tend a child’s fever, the friend who listens through endless heartaches, or the partner who chooses forgiveness over resentment. These are not grand gestures alone, but the accumulation of choices—the mortar between the bricks of any loving relationship.

Love as a Force for Well-Being

In the end, love is more than a personal triumph—it is a societal cornerstone. Studies link strong relationships to longer lifespans, better mental health, and resilience in crisis. Love, in its many forms, is the antidote to isolation, the catalyst for community, and the root of compassion. It is no coincidence that cultures worldwide have myths, rituals, and art celebrating love; we intuitively know that to love and be loved is to touch the sacred.

Conclusion: The Infinite Puzzle

Love remains, ultimately, an enigma—a puzzle with pieces that shift under scrutiny. It is biology and choice, obsession and tranquility, fleeting and eternal. Yet in its complexity lies its power: to challenge us, to transform us, and to remind us that we are not alone. To love is to participate in one of humanity’s oldest stories, a story written in neurochemistry and stardust, in philosophy and whispered promises. And perhaps that is the greatest truth of all—love is not just something we find. It is something we become.

Love, you have always played a cruel game of hide-and-seek

Love, you have always played a cruel game of hide-and-seek with me. My entire life, I’ve walked through fields of longing, peered into every shadow, whispered your name into the wind, but you, love, remained just beyond my grasp. A myth, a whisper, a promise that never materialized. I searched, oh how I searched, believing you were meant for someone else, always someone else.

And then, a moment. A breathtaking, fragile moment when you finally, finally showed yourself. God sent me a man, a brief, beautiful supernova in my desolate sky. He didn't just find me; he saw me, truly saw me, and in his gaze, I felt a worthiness I’d never dared to claim. It was a truth, a revelation: I was capable of love, worthy of receiving it, of giving it in return. But oh, love, you were merciless. I blinked, just for a second, and you were gone. It wasn’t a slow fade; it was a screeching halt, a sudden, brutal silence. You ran away so fast, a speeding phantom, leaving me in the dust, wondering if I had even truly felt your warmth, or if it was just a phantom limb sensation of a love I was never truly allowed to grasp. I did not get to feel how and what love truly is.

Now, there’s just this hollow ache where he used to be. My husband. I miss him every single day, every breath a testament to the happiness that was ripped away. I am not happy. He died. And now I’m back in the fields of longing, but this time, the shadows are deeper, the fear heavier. oh god, can you send me love again? oh god, please. I am so tired of this emptiness. Will love ever find me again, or will I be too afraid to even try? Will the memory of its swift departure forever paralyze me, keep me from reaching out, from daring to believe in a forever that was proven to be a mere second?

Oh, Love, how I want you

The road stretches out, a ribbon of gray,

Unfurling before me, day after day.

Each bend is a whisper, a silent desire,

To lead me to love, to rekindle my fire.

I walk with a longing, a search in my eyes,

Past fleeting landscapes and ever-changing skies.

Will I glimpse it, a flicker, a sign in the air?

Will my heart recognize it, escaping despair?

Or does love wander, a spirit untamed,

A whisper unheard, a name never named?

Will it turn down my pathway, unbidden, unknown,

And find its way here, where I walk all alone?

Oh, Love, how I want you, with every beat strong,

To end this long journey, this solitary song.

To share every moment, the sunlight, the rain,

To banish the ache, to dissolve all the pain.

This quest can feel endless, the miles can be vast,

A future uncertain, a shadow long cast.

But hope is a lantern, that flickers and gleams,

Will love ever find me, or live just in dreams?