What’s the meaning of life. Right…well, a lot of people will tell you it’s love. And they’re so close it hurts. But when they talk about love, they mean human love. Human connection. And that’s a flawed thing, at times unreliable. It can even be what hurts most about being alive. Love or lack thereof. It’s not something to base your meaning off of, not entirely. Now, to imagine another being—something higher, something perfect, that would never leave nor hurt you—that is closer to the truth. That kind of love is real. And it’s all around you. It’s God. Living for humans is a horryfing idea. Living for a God, serving Him? Knowing you have meaning, because you have been created, set apart? That’s the meaning, my friends. It’s not just your everyday love. It’s an all-consuming, everconstant, unmaleable, kind of love.