The meaningless search for meaning.

The ultimate paradox.

The heart doesn’t need meaning; it needs feeling.

Love doesn’t change with meaning.

It’s built into its fabric - to make no sense.

Is that the beauty of love - it’s lacking in sense?

Its only purpose but to experience and sustain itself.

To be felt. Inside and out.

Is the meaninglessness of life found in the meaninglessness of love?

Is the learning that something does not need meaning to be the most beautiful thing in existence.

The contradiction of what I’m writing isn’t lost on me.