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Love is the best thing that we do. I’ve heard this many many times in my life. I’ve found so much comfort in this phrase. It’s been my destiny to fulfill myself in every word and find the meaning of my existence in it. I’ve measured myself, and everyone I’ve shared pieces of my heart with, through this phrase.

Love is the best thing that we do.

I’ve dissected it and analyzed and simplified it.

But what happens when it's not?

The answer, for me, is chaos, darkness and confusion. Love. Love? How has my experience been so dark… with love? I’ve begged, pleaded, sobbed and cried for love. Snot coming from my nose as I begged God to take me back to the warm embrace of ignorance and blind love. I’ve spent hours on my knees at church begging for God, for hope, for faith… for love. My family and friends have watched me fall to pieces, helped me glue them back and even held me when I couldn't. I’ve drank myself to sleep, ran half marathons to keep up with my mind and doubted every word anyone’s ever said to me. How can this be the best thing that I'm doing?