I believe in a thing called Love

(I now invite you to listen to the rhythmic pounding of my heart!:p)

So shoot me.

I believe in love. Ok, so perhaps not the over romanticised mushy American sort of Hollywood love, but I hold fervent belief in the simple, genuine and undignified sort which we see every day.

Surely, all love (or the 'illusion' of love as some may call it) cannot be based purely on the need to reproduce. What about same-sex relationships? Similarly, feelings for others cannot be purely based on the need for companionship. Yes, I'm sure there's all sorts of hormones and chemicals which might make these feelings come about, but can a hormonal rush last for a lifetime? Real, stoic and enduring affection comes into fruition later.

To me, tiny acts of human kindness prove that love is all around me. (and so the feeling grows. ) Leaving the landing light on so that someone doesn't trip in the dark when they come to bed, pushing the tin-pot car of a man you've never met before over a speed bump, finding a fiver on the floor and putting it in a charity collection; even something as simple as smiling at someone on the street.

The people for which we do such things are, most likely, ones that we will never see or encounter again, so it follows that we cannot be doing these things for personal gain; these are people that we will maintain no contact with, and therefore will not give us anything in return other than their gratitude. Perhaps, you might say, we do these things for the sense of personal satisfaction that they bring, but can you honestly tell me that personal satisfaction is the first thing you think about when buying a Big Issue?

All these tiny things form the basis for the monster we call Love. The sort of love which would compel you to die for the object of your affections, the stupidly extravagant and flamboyant notion of romantic love.

From this, of course, physical gratification can be gained, (*Ahem*) but what about the elderly couples who stay together until death, the type who still cuddle each other at the ages of 92 and 93? That just has to be based on something more, doesn't it?

It would be fair to say that, until now, my points have been fairly sketchy and it would also be entirely correct, so I'm going to end on this: Love is the last great belief. In an increasingly atheist world, love is the one last tangible human thing in which to have faith.

So fuck it. I'm a romantic.