Love is such an easy subject to be difficult. I often feel like I love everything equally. But then is it really love? For there is no contrast to distinguish it. To know love, mustn’t you know it’s contrast, it’s opposite? Perhaps just knowing the opposite is enough to define love without having to hold it’s opposite. Some say there are shades of love like there are shades of gray, but I try not to discriminate between the shades, or the subjects of my love.