“The material. It cannot substitute the lack of the immaterial. To anyone who disagrees that love is no choice, it should then be safe to assume they want something as money to be the route to their heart.”– Modern Romanticism
Is love a game? It is not, objectively speaking. Life is the game, because when it is lost, we leave behind what was more than perhaps the money alongside a will. We can cheat to become free, in the material gain of it. Though, it is not so much the case that we can deceive our way to something earned.
Love is not a game, because it supposes itself as the matter of nothing earned, nor anything cheated to gain. We do not gain love, since we gain respect. We do not earn love, since we earn trust. We cannot fully earn respect, when it is an option to cheat to gain it, just as we can place the same reputation upon ourselves for others to fear us. We cannot gain trust, because deception or cheating is not an option when a lie’s vulnerability is to its exposure.
What would love then be? Since it cannot be earned, nor gained, then it must place itself as the immaterial and invisible non-existence a person is limited to only believing in.
It is to be said that we believe in another, through love, that we might see to the depths of themselves. For truths that were not seen by that individual, masked either by what was cheated to be gained or through deception unto fragile trust, and then we unearth them. We unearth the truths that the external individual had not seen, because perception to the self is always limited.
We trust in God, because we believe in Him. We trust in love, because we believe in it. We merely believe that such exists, because there is no evidence until it is found. When it is discovered, it is for only one time.
Though, it is the material that could purchase evidence through deception, for its gain. It is the material that through a choice, becomes a wrong. Love is no choice, because the material cannot substitute it. If one disagrees, then one is content with turning to addiction after tragedy.
Love is no choice. It is the epitome of all objective correctness, in the universe.
Then, to want a sheer choice, outside of love, either through what is earned or merely obtained, is to excuse oneself away from committing to correctness. It is to have more commitment for fear and simple tolerance, over love and warm acceptance. One corrects, through love, because the imperfections that one perfects is the same for how a person unearths disguised truths within someone else. To perfect an imperfection is to bring to light what was held in darkness, because one should know that the lie is never the human.