The quest for love has been in existence ever since the creation of man. Perhaps even before that. Subsequent with repentance for his sin, man set out in search for his beloved. His companion. His mate. But is love like that? A navigation-less search? A conquest of sorts?I could never really wind my head around the whole concept of ‘searching for love.’ I could ‘search’ for lost keys, a missing person, my mind even, yes but love always will be an entirely different thing. Love for me, is not a list of coordinates that could be typed into a GPS system, set on ‘Go’ and then added to ‘My favorites’. Neither is it the alternative to a heartbreak, a fatherless childhood, or an excuse for sex.

Ordinarily we blame media for our messed up notions of love. We blame them (its always easier when there’s a scapegoat) for making us believe that Prince Charming is the solution to most of life’s problem. That in the end true love prevails against all odds. Some might label me the non-optimist (sounds less harsher than pessimist) but I’d like to affiliate myself with re-optinist. I agree, there is no word as such. Until today that is. Its a mixture of ‘realist, optimist and opportunist.’ Label’s are such a retarded concept. I think. (Regardless, that’s a topic for a whole ‘nother article).

So we live our lives (most of it) believing that finding love will lead us into a world of opportunity. We’ll be carried away, mesmerized into the sunset while our hair cascades in the wind. I’m not saying that won’t happen. If you find the right ‘one’ chances are, it could. But my basis lies elsewhere. Live.

Sometimes we spend our entire lives ‘searching’ for that someone. We agonize over the persons we have met and how many of then either: cheated on us, hadn’t called back, was a doosh (plain and simple), or didn’t make the cut. Have we lost track of who we are during this long trek for ‘love-dom’?

People often say that when you find the right ‘one’ you’ll know. And I believe that. Wholeheartedly. But I also believe that we shouldn’t stop our lives just ‘cos we searching for ‘love.’ Let it happen. In its own time. In its own place. That’s the beauty of love. Its not a destination to be found. But a miracle waiting to happen.

Love is out there. In the meantime there’s a life to live.