Love is all.

It is the quintessence of our existence, the very foundation of who and what we are. Love acts as the glue that keeps this universe connected, the cohesive substance that binds us together in harmony.

I saw her from a distance as she emerged from the subway stairs. Her red hair glistened in the night beneath the big city lights, and she looked around the busy streets with a kind of mystical curiosity.

Her eyes caught mine, and she cheerfully waved from across the street.

This was the first time I had seen her in years, and it was likely that the previous meeting would have been our last. Something had brought us together across space and time; some ineffable force united us on that December night.

Love plays a role in all of our lives whether we know it or not. It drives us. It fuels us. It propels us toward greater novelty and freshness and lifts us to higher states of being. Whether it be the love of a family member, love of a partner, love of an activity, or just a generalized zest for life, love is what moves us into further positivity and passion.

Just how like breeds like, love also breeds love.

We embraced under a flickering street light in downtown Manhattan, and although we didn’t know each other that well and had not seen each other in quite some time, there was a kind of familiarity. I felt comfortable almost immediately, which is not really a common occurrence with me.

We walked uptown with a kind of sublime pep in our step, while words flowed between us with a near effortless finesse.

We were supposed to be here, that much was clear to me.

I didn’t know what brought us together at the time, and I still really don’t. Perhaps it was a subtle exchange of glances from years back, or a look I had given her that she had captured, or vice versa. Regardless, some kind of subconscious alignment had been made together. Was it words spoken? Was it mere happenstance? Was it sexual attraction?

Was it love?

All I knew was that we were here, and that’s all that damn well mattered.

Whatever the subtleties are that bring people together, they are important. They mean something. They are not entirely incidental, and when we follow those feelings good things tend to happen to us.

I followed a feeling, and it led me here.

Our eyes kept crossing paths with each other as if there was some gravitational pull between them. I noticed our shoulders were touching more and more as we connected more deeply amidst the incessant sounds and vibrations of the city. The energy of it all only increased the energy between us.

After a period at a friends apartment somewhere along 1st Avenue, where we inhaled controlled substances and exhaled laughter on the roof of a majestic 50 storied Manhattan residence, we skipped back out onto the illuminated yet mysterious streets and almost immediately embraced in a sea of tender kisses.

Every subtle movement of her lips, every discrete sound, every elusive touch, every detail of this magical caress was embedded into my consciousness, imprinted upon my restless psyche. Right then and there everything made sense—or maybe I just ceased to care whether it made sense or not.

We danced into the night, sharing many more fond and loving moments that seemed neither too long nor too short for satisfaction.

If I could condense this into some kind of idea, some sort of useful sentiment, it would be to pursue these feelings. Pursue love. Pursue catharsis. Pursue ecstasy. Pursue experience. Pursue Beauty. Pursue connection.

To me, the essence of human life is connection, and I’m not willing to budge an inch on this matter.

We are here to love, to connect, to be one with each other. It is irrelevant whether it lasts or not. If it is for a night, or for a lifetime, so be it! The point is that it was there, that for a time we transcended ourselves to be unified with the other, to be aligned with life itself, to be in tune with something beyond our egos.

Love is everything, and when I abide in this sense of connection and solidarity, I feel at my best. I feel held by the nurturing hands of grace.
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Author: Samuel Kronen 
Image: Crazy, Stupid Love movie still.
Editor: Travis May