As humans, we define ourselves by love. From the relationships, memories, and secrets we share with each other--we lay bare our struggles, our pain, even our soul, all in the name of love--risking everything, to include ridicule and judgment. What is it about love that makes us open our hearts to others--friends and strangers alike--inviting them into our vulnerable spaces? Conversely, what is it that has to happen to a person's heart to guide that person toward rejecting love? Is love essential, purposeful, or even worthwhile? Is it possible that love is simply an overrated idea and over-the-top phenomenon that gives us an unrealistic view of our identity and desire for something more--something we can never fully achieve or experience? The strangest thing is, although love has a long historical root, no one can quite capture love's paradoxical nature. Notwithstanding, if you are stubborn enough to hold on to the absurd idea that love can fill your life with meaning, then that thought alone is enough to celebrate love and all that it offers.