"What is love?"
Céline sighed, as if she had expected this question, then answered in a calm voice:
"Love is an unconditional feeling… something that goes beyond desires and needs. It's a connection between two people, not based on mutual benefits or logical reasons, but simply on the sense of closeness to another person."
Nullus stared at her without changing his expression, then asked:
"But if it's unconditional, why does it sometimes end? Why do lovers separate? Why do people get hurt because of it?"
Céline smiled softly and replied:
"Because love is something alive, Nullus. It grows, it changes, and sometimes, it dies. Love isn't an eternal promise; it's an experience."
Nullus didn't like this answer. It felt vague, incomplete. So he pressed further, his tone sharper, adopting a Socratic approach:
"But if it changes and dies, how can it be unconditional? Doesn't that mean it depends on circumstances? And if that's the case, how is it different from any other emotion?"
Céline seemed slightly surprised by the depth of his questioning, but she didn't back down. Instead, she took a sip from her glass and answered thoughtfully:
"Perhaps there are different kinds of love. Some remain unconditional despite the passing of time, like a parent's love for their child, or the love we have for those we've lost but still carry in our hearts."
Nullus shook his head slowly and said:
"If there are different kinds of love, then that means it's not one thing, but rather a collection of different emotions that we happen to call by the same name. So does love truly exist as an independent entity? Or is it just a word we use to describe separate things?"
Céline chuckled lightly, then rested her head on her hand and said:
"You're more complicated than I expected. But I see your point… Maybe love can't really be defined—only felt."
Nullus paused for a moment, then nodded as if he had accepted the idea. He felt as though he had dissected love to the point where the word itself had lost meaning. And yet, the warmth he felt toward Céline had not disappeared.
Céline sighed and leaned back slightly before saying in a quiet voice:
"I have more free time than usual these days, especially after my divorce. I never thought I'd sit here one day with someone trying to define love instead of just feeling it."
Nullus raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, without any hesitation:
"Did you love him?"
Céline looked at him for a long moment, then gave a faint smile and said:
"Yes, but maybe that wasn't enough."
Nullus pondered her words. Love isn't enough? If love was what set hearts on fire, how could it not be enough? But he didn't ask. He simply looked at Céline and silently wondered—was he really feeling love? Or was it something else, something for which he had yet to find a name?
---
Nullus gazed at Céline for a long time, as if trying to break her words down into clearer meanings. Her last sentence echoed in his mind.
"Yes… but maybe that wasn't enough."
Finally, he spoke in a quiet yet curious voice:
"If love wasn't enough, then what was missing?"
Céline sighed and averted her eyes for a moment, as if searching for the answer in some hidden corner of her mind.
"Sometimes, Nullus, love alone is fragile, like a leaf in the wind. Feelings alone don't create a strong foundation. We need mutual understanding, the ability to face life together, the willingness to fight for the relationship—not just to feel it."
Nullus nodded slowly, but inside, he wasn't entirely convinced.
"But isn't love supposed to make all of that possible? Isn't it supposed to give people the strength to face life together? If love requires other things to survive, isn't that an admission that it's not the ultimate force people claim it to be?"
Céline smiled slowly, as if she had anticipated this question from him.
"Nullus, is water enough to sustain life?"
He stared at her, thinking.
"No, we need food, air…"
"Exactly. But does that mean water isn't important?"
He paused for a moment, then said:
"No, water is essential, but it's not the only thing."
"And that's how love is."
Nullus remained silent for a few moments, as if testing this idea in his mind, measuring it against what he felt—that warmth that had flared up inside him when he thought about her.
At last, he said:
"But what if I only want love? What if I'm looking for something pure, without conditions, without needing anything else?"
Céline laughed softly, though there was a subtle sadness beneath her tone.
"If you're searching for pure love, you might not find it in this world, Nullus. The love you describe exists in dreams, in books—but it's very rare in real life. We are human, not abstract ideas."
"But…" He stopped, as if the words were failing him. Then, in a low voice, he said: "If love is this complicated, why does everyone chase after it?"
Céline held his gaze for a long moment before answering:
"Because we can't live without it, even if we don't understand it."
Nullus looked down at the table, as if searching for an answer that hadn't yet left his lips. Then he raised his head and asked her:
"And you? Do you still believe in love?"
She considered the question for a moment before saying:
"I believe it exists… but I no longer believe it's eternal."
He raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn't expected that response.
"Why?"
Céline gave a soft smile, but there was a shadow of sorrow in it.
"Because everything changes, Nullus. Even hearts."
For a moment, he was silent, then spoke in a voice barely above a whisper:
"But I don't want it to change."
She looked at him deeply, then said gently:
"Maybe that's because you've never loved before."
....
After several dates with Serene, Nullus began to notice a change within himself. Each meeting felt like a piece being added to the puzzle of love, and little by little, he started to realize that love was not just a theoretical concept but a living experience shaped by shared moments—ones that could not be fully explained with words.
During one of those dates, as they sat together under the dim city lights, Nullus turned to Serene and said with quiet confidence:
"I think I've found the key to understanding love."
She raised an eyebrow curiously and asked, "And what is it?"
He looked directly at her, as if all his previous questions had finally found their answers, and said:
"The key is something you hinted at during our first meeting... It's feeling it—experiencing it."
At that moment, he felt something different. It was as if his understanding of love was not just an intellectual progression but a turning point within himself. There was a deep resonance, an awareness that spread through his entire being and reflected onto the reality around him. He no longer possessed only his conceptual vision of the primal state of matter—something new had awakened within him, a power he had never been able to grasp before, as if his understanding of himself and the world had taken on an entirely new dimension.