Definitions

Who gets to define great things? Like love. Your shrink? Your best friend? Carrie Bradshaw? I mean, in Sex and the City: The Movie, Carrie was stuck. She was writing on her laptop and she wrote this:

"Love."

And then changed it to this:

"Love..."

And then back to this:

"Love."

What is that then? What does that mean? Is it a final thought or just the beginning of free association? Is it its own entity or an item in a slew of adjectives used to describe a certain feeling? Can it speak on its own or do you need to add more (hence Carrie's ellipses)?

When you come across something and you're not quite sure what it is, you don't know what games to play. You don't know what rules to follow. That is, you don't know what you're doing until you've almost certainly screwed it up.

When you realize that you can't pick up the pieces or glue them back together, it might have been you or the other person to walk away from it. So the pieces stay there.

You take a little time to gather yourself. You see what's out there for you. Maybe you figure something out. Maybe you know how to play the "game" better. Or maybe you've made your own rules. Better rules. Maybe you made a better you who doesn't need the game or the rules.

When you have the opportunity to get back what you screwed up, to take it and keep it and make it yours, do you finally understand it? Is it only when you understand it that you can even take it back? How is it possible to not understand something when it has so much power over you that your core is shaken, your beliefs could change, your mind is stimulated, and your heart opened? I guess when you have the opportunity to witness something like that, you don't screw it up in the first place.

The same way it is almost impossible to define love in terms of an infinity of ideas or the final thought or even as its own clause, it is impossible to define the one you love, the feeling you get, and the feeling you miss.