What's Love?

I don't love many people. I love my parents (it's filial piety), I'm ashamed to admit I don't really love my siblings (it's complicated), I love my dog (it's really easy, she's uncomplicated), I love one or two of my friends (even more complicated). I also love an obese fifty year old woman at my work. Let's call her Elizabeth.
I've known her for four years, and as time passes I've become more attached to her, even though by the world's standards she's unlovely. I'm not writing this to make myself sound good, or to stroke my ego, I'm just trying to understand my feelings for her. She's very kind, and has a meek spirit. She smells like a mouse cage on hot days and patchouli on cool days. She's a practicing Wiccan. I admire her though, she was raised in an abusive house and now has a number of health ailments. Elizabeth has a ready wit, and it's always a pleasure to banter with her. It's like Shakespeare when we talk, we pile entendre on top of entendre, we exchange barbs that do not sting. We are constantly kidding with each other, if she were not married and if she were not an obese firty year old woman a person could mistake our banter as heavy flirting. But it's innocent and honest. I watch out of her at work, she watches out for me. I value my friendship with her more then any other relationship (except for one, and my parents don't really count cuz they're my parents). She's taught me to be tolerant and loving to people who are entirely dissimilar to myself. I don't approve of her religion, but I can't hate her for it. I love her, as odd as that sounds. I can't help myself. If I didn't know her, and I walked into the bookstore and saw her I'd file her under "fat silly woman". But I know her, and I love her. Love covers a multitude of flaws, it makes us blind.

It also helps us to see.