For all of the writing, philosophizing, fantasizing, and romanticizing we do on the subject of love, there is little to know of it which we do not already understand. However, there remains this sense that there is some unsolved mystery to be known. That if only they could find the key, they could unlock the door to their idealized happiness characterized by this idea of love. This is a misconception. There is not a secret key. No fairy dust. No magic spell. Love is here. It is accessible. Yet in spite of this lack of a veil or shroud of mystery, love is nevertheless an intricately amazing thing.
It is often romanticized with mystery and adventure, and also includes agonies such as lies and losses. This is not the love which we seek. We fantasize it to be mysterious because it is so unknown to us that we cannot comprehend love in its perfection. So we lock it away within our mind and set it above as something too high to be reached by normal hands, and therefore we must ascend beyond ourselves by discovering some secret code. Only through this discovery can we attain that love. But anyone who is in love will tell you that they didn't need to become perfect in order to love. Rather, it is love which perfected them. We are only complete when we are in love. With life. With one another. We don't need to go on an endless search for meaning and reason in order to arrive at a conclusion which has been staring us in the face since the day we were born. So put down your magic wands and school books, young child. You cannot find love in these things. There is love to be known. We must only wish to find it and reciprocate it in order to have it.