"Agape"

 

I was stunned by the word when I encountered this restaurant, as if it was powerful enough to pierce through and penetrate me, at the spot. I was remarkably touched (how moving is this adjective? Feeling touched is an instinct intrinsic to oneself, a feeling that is yielded and simultaneously grows internally like an inverted flower. Like a fig. Blooming in an unusual and adverse direction than the others. Almost rebellious, yet very introverted, by nature). Agape. A selfless and deliberate form of love that is comparable to some God’s will, which is also an ideal state and act of love that is lost in translation. In Greek, as far as I’m concerned, agape is regarded as the highest form of love and charity while this seemingly otherworldly and ethereal concept is utilised and seen randomly without an expectation. It echoed something inside me. I resonated with a strange sense of synchronisation and coincidence at the same time as if some trains of thought hit their target. Agape is around the corner. It’s down the road and it’s as close as it can be on a pavement. Bizarrely. I was told that I had been missed dearly and that led me to think of the concept of agape. I didn’t know that I possess the same mutual feeling to that extent until I saw those words from her. Someone misses me sincerely. When you think of this action of someone’s, like really taking this action of theirs into account, how can you feel anything other than being overwhelmed. And then my tears overflew. Overflowing is only caused by inadequate capacity and my inner volume is rather limited, as miniature as a sparrow’s stomach. A seed could have fulfilled me, while I’m always offered to experience plenty of these, feelings, that I fail to name or translate. It’s as if agape. You can sort of grasp its periphery, but it eventually slips between language. It melts in the lack of imagination. It falls into a sort of crevice that is made of, a tangible form of speechlessness, if that exists