Love is like Soup
Have you ever wondered what love really is? The four-lettered word which is so easy to spell, yet so hard to define.
What is love to you?
The more I think about it, the more I realize, love is like soup.
I love my soup hot. Sometimes, when I can’t finish my soup, I’ll keep it for another day. Some people don’t mind drinking their soup cold. It might be nice to them. But to me, the soup will never be as nice as it should’ve been when drank hot. With a little bit of effort spent on reheating the soup, it will be nice and warm all over again, as good as it was from day one.
Sometimes, after drinking the same soup over and over again, you might get bored of it. And because the soup is there but you don’t drink or do anything about it, it will spoil.
Just like love.
You can love that special someone with all your heart. And that special someone can love you too. Sometimes, that person may love you a little bit more than you love her. You can choose to accept the fact and do nothing about it, or choose to learn to love her more. And hurt her less.
When you accept the fact and do nothing, it is similar to drinking cold soup. The soup might taste okay, but it would not be as good as it could’ve been drank hot. Just like in a relationship, with a little bit of ‘reheating’, the relationship will grow stronger each day.
But here’s the confusing part. If you make your soup too hot, it will burn your tongue in the end.
That’s what love really is. Soup.
“It takes no time to fall in love, but it takes you years to know what love is” – Jason Mraz, Life Is Wonderful
Opposite Side of the Road
I wrote this sometime back in May this year, and decided to post it here to remind myself of the existence of this site 
This is my journey, this is my soul,
My reflections on everything that I have sown.
The trials that come each year,
With God, whom shall I fear?
Live mighty, live high,
Like an eagle soaring across the sky.
I am me, different in my ways,
I’ve always known, I don’t belong in this place.
Here, I pour my heart and all its load,
As I walk the opposite side of the road.
In the end, when we part,
I hope you’ll know, my life was His art.
Matthew Ong, 2011
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