Love.

There's an... underhand current to love that I've never understood. A mother's love for her child, that she would forsake a bite so her son could have a meal. There's so many misunderstood reiterations that love is between a man and a woman. But always taken with the tone that love is between two of spousal age. Tell me then, what's a man's love for his mother. A father's love for his daughter. A brother's love for another. People throw around these words so easily, yelling; I love you. I love you. You love me too. But the fact is, love is misunderstood.
Love is the willingness to not only suffer for another, but to share in joy and to know that.. you. are. appreciated.
Love is the willingness to admit; my presence only pains you.
To admit; we may argue and clash, but I mean no harm through it.
To admit; I've made mistakes, and will continue making them.
Love is the willingness to deal with the tantrums and bitterness.
To understand that there will be periods of unrest and confusion.
Love is the willingness to sit by a sick one's bed until we rise again recovered.
Love.
Do you understand this... this idea. This concept.
Love is akin to the water we drink, the air we breathe, the food we eat.
It's a necessity.
Yet... at the same time, so is hate.
It seems that almost everything has a parallel in this world.