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I Want To Know What Love Is
Fidel Ohirimeh |
The weather had a soft beckoning allure to it that evening which I liked very much as it stirred nostalgic memories; many of which I cherished. Sitting there that evening falling sway to these silly emotions, watching somber clouds hang lazily low my line of vision fell in with my little brother who'd been running in my direction.
I stared back with blank remote assessment of his features and was rewarded with a sudden heaving of my chest. Sweet pains tunneling down from the source of dear feelings harbored in my heart, for him. Watching him draw close, I though to myself.
"The things that I live for"
He slowed to a walk. Which gave me time to look intently at his form, like some new spark of revelation I knew without any shadows; that I would do anything for him, for the love of him I would willingly give my life without a second thought. Sometimes when I fancy that I have fallen for a woman. The feeling causes me to presume I know what it is to love. And then again no time have I felt it more completely or cared for someone more totally than I do for my little brother. Perhaps it is his little form; which consumes me with such protective passion, as does a mother over her child.
It may have stemmed through anything from being born of the same womb or having the same mother but this I truly understand, that whenever I am blessed to set eyes on him, when I look at him I know, beyond anything words could ever describe. What love is?
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