I've always wondered how gravity can pull so hard that planets stay aligned and even the lightest and heaviest objects fall into it. Yet here we are, able to stand and move and not be flattened by it. And no one can really truly tell you what it is. How it works. Of what it's made.
Kind of like love.
Maybe the best love is that which gently holds you in place. Supports you but lets you feel the freedom of movement. Lifted, while held into its form. Invisible but always right there. Large enough to flow outward into the farthest reaches of space, but so close it goes into your nostrils and fills your cells with what it is. It can be identified, but it can never seem to be properly explained. It can be experienced, but not duplicated.
Thinking about how my mom's gravity will always pull me in and push me out all at the same time. Holding near. Letting go.
Gravity Love.
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