Define it, they say— As if everything we feel must have a name, As if every ache required a label, Every joy deserves a sentence. Every silence has a reason.
They ask me to explain love. But how do you give the warmth a name? of a voice you haven't heard in years, the way a single smile can freeze time, the comfort in knowing someone sees you— Really sees you? Love is too broad for a single word, too alive for stationary letters.
Define pain? It's more than just tears. It's the pressure you feel in a crowded room. where laughter resonates but does not land. It's the message you never delivered, the goodbye that never came. Pain speaks softly, Sometimes it does not speak at all.
Define success? For some, it's just statistics and awards. To some, it is peace following chaos. a serene morning free of fear, a full night's sleep. Success looks different for each soul. It is not always loud.
We strive so hard to describe things— to simplify the complex, to subdue emotions with reason, to fit life into checkboxes. But perhaps not everything wishes to be defined. Maybe certain things wish to be felt. Held. Trusted.
So when they say, "Define it. " Maybe I'll stop, Look within myself and respond— "I can't. Not yet. But it is genuine. And occasionally, that's sufficient. ”
