notbecauseofvictories:

I spent most of Sunday at a family baby shower, playing with my kid cousins. They’re all under the age of 12 and absolutely do not care about anything in my life. (They’re vaguely aware I’m in school, but that’s about the extent of their interest.) All know that I show up at family events, that I’m good at hide and seek and basketball and monopoly and I’ll teach them funny insults. Their love is profound, and simple—they love me because I am there, because they know I won’t hurt or mock them, and I’m willing to play their games. That’s it.

And when I think about the people in my life who I love the most, whose existence is the most important to me—it’s honestly not that different. (Less hide and seek, maybe.) My love has absolutely no relationship to the prestige of their job or how fashionably they dress; I’ve never actually cared for a person because they’re glamorous or successful. The people I love are important to me because of who they are, what they’ve given me or stood by me through, or just because we connect on a certain level. Those qualities don’t show up on a resume.

Which means that…..the truest and deepest measure of the worth of human existence is that ineffable liking, which exists just because the other person does. And I think about that a lot, whenever I start getting too wrapped up in what I can achieve or whenever I find myself judging someone else for not. The people who value these hypothetical slackers do so for a reason totally apart from their success or glamour; the people who love me only care about my grades because I do, and they want me to be happy. 

At the end of the day, love is an animal thing. It seeks the warm, and nothing more complicated than that.