What is Love?

On this lukewarm Valentine's Day, I contemplate deeply. I'm not one of those people that absolutely hates February 14th, but I'm not about to embrace it, either. There is so much love and lust in the world that making everyone focus on this for a whole day makes me feel a bit nauseous.

What is love, anyway? A question that haunts everyone at some point, I think.

There are very few books out there that don't have some kind of romance brewing. (I'll freely admit that I've never written one without it). But one thing I've been brooding over is this: how do these characters know that they're in love if they've only known each other for three days? Seriously. In a huge majority the books I've read recently, the boy and girl meet in the first few pages of the book. Everything happens so fast, without any real conversations. Is this love, or just lust?

When I was a little girl, I thought love was that butterfly sensation in my stomach. My "love" lasted about a week for each boy. I still remember those poor kids I probably scarred. Not, not scared. Scarred. I was very exuberant in my affections. Ryan, Andy, Tanner, Cody, Charles, on and on... I was quite fickle. Sometimes I feel like there's not much difference from little me to the teen girls in these books.

To me, love is work. Love is a choice. It's a commitment to one person, and it isn't easy. It shouldn't be easy. Two different people coming together and making room for each other in so many ways... What about that screams quick and painless? For some there are exceptions, yes, but for the majority, in my opinion, if it's easy, it's not love.

What are your views on love and lust and Valentine's Day?