THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE

The language of love is silent.

You're trying to speak to me in your language, but I don't understand you. You make some awkward gestures, trying to show me what your words fail to convey. I am listening to hear, to understand, to feel, to make your awkwardness less, to shorten the distance between us. We speak different languages, but it is the sparkle in our eyes that brings us closer. Desperate that your words do not reach me, you sink in silence and only your eyes look at me intently. They look at me like I'm the one who lights the fire in them. And then I understand everything. And you are so excited that you spontaneously embrace me as a sign of apology and humility. And everything is clear without words. Because you speak the language of love.

But today you are different and I do not understand the language of your silence. Today you are different and you speak to me in the language of indifference. You change every day and I fail to learn your language, to understand your heart and the way it is expressed.

One day you are yourself, and then you dissolve into everything alive and inanimate. I want to learn to understand you, to find you. You want to learn to understand me so you don't lose me.

The language of love is like freedom.

In an instant, I am a light-winged bird that rises to an unprecedented height to absorb the sky inside. And you are there, you are the very infinite sky that comforts me gently in your arms. Immediately afterwards, I am the sand heated by the August sun, which slowly absorbs the water. And you are there, you are the huge wave that brings me back to shore, you are my salvation. And freedom is our language that binds us forever.

The language of love is like a song.

You are the fish in the river that reflects the birds on the trees. The birds sing about what the fish are silent about. They sing about the secrets of rivers and oceans, the secrets of the birth of life. I am the song that fills your heart. I am the most ancient tune in the world that makes you part of the history of creation. Like a creature that takes two and a song. You are the sounds from which I compose my music.

The language of love is like a prayer.

As a meditation in the green forest. Like the color of beloved eyes that cannot be forgotten. It's like the sunlight I'm breathing. Like all the optimism of the world that the sun is drawing inside of me. Like the anxiety I exhale. Like the shriek of the silence. Like the purity after betrayal.

The language of love is like an invitation to loneliness.

You promise to always be with me. You even try to suggest to me that I am all for you. I believe you, too. In the next days you are already different. Only you are all for yourself. I no longer believe in promises. It is the embrace of loneliness that saves me.

The language of love is like the pain before separation.

Like the silence and joy after the loss. Like the illusions found. As a cure for indifference. Like expectation the heart to be broken again.

The language of love is like a mirror.

I look at you to see myself. To see if you allow me to yourself. You look at me to show me I am no longer in your eyes. I am looking for you so I can be. You run away from me to find yourself. The language of love is the life born from me. The life you created in me in impulses of uncertain tenderness.

The language of love is the thought of the other.

It is an outstretched hand. It is the smile on your face when you hear my name. It is a shared sigh under the veil of night. It is the memory of our common tomorrow and the hope of missed moments. It is the light of the deep night when it is so cold to be together. It is also a warmth when we are at a distance but dreaming of one another.

The language of love is like humanity.

In the language of love, compassion and mercy are what keep us proud. They are also what gives depth to our heart. They are the patience of the universe when I and you become terribly unbearable to God. When we forget about the existence of God, He reminds us of Himself, giving us a chance to be noble and gracious. Because the will to follow Him is what makes us victorious.

In the language of love we look into our souls.

(Elena S. Lyubenova)