So, I have found it.

Finally, after centuries of research and pondering, of questions after questions, humanity has finally discovered the true meaning of the most important word and emotion to ever exist.

I have written about this topic before, questioning and seeking the definition of this four-letter conundrum. I presented almost all the available options and demonstrated how such findings could be used to accurately prove the most mysterious hypothesis of all time. As you know, however, even with all the facts the galaxy could present, it was impossible to nail down one single explanation.
I speak of course, about love.

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After a multitude of hours and days spent in deep concentration, I woke to find myself confronted with the very emotion I was seeking to pin down. It was uplifting and heart-wrenching at the same time. Warming and chilling; both soothing and chaotic.

It was in this state that I was presented with a most interesting dilemma. The woman I loved, whose beauty could make the stars cry from shame, whose tongue could skin a boar at a hundred paces, whose single glance could send nations of men to war, could not see herself as I did. No matter how I insisted that she was perfection incarnate, she refused to believe me. Self-esteem problems run rampant in the world these days, with thin, curvaceous models walking around half-naked telling women that unless they are like them, they are not good. I set out on a quest to prove to her not only why she was as amazing as I could see her, but also why I saw her that way; why I loved her.

Months and months of assurance and acts to provide proof failed miserably, and though she remained as radiant as a midsummer’s sparkling moon, she still doubted herself. It was on a night like this, where upon reflecting, she suggested (in jest I assure you) that she was not worthy of me and the love I carried in my heart for her. I was appalled, shocked to tears even, that not only would she question my devotion to her, but also that even after so many long nights of attempt, she still could not see the truth of herself.

She spoke to me of all her faults and weaknesses, of every misdeed she had committed and all the things that prove her falling short of perfection. I listened intently, absorbing everything she said, but believing none of it, when a thought came to my head. Gesturing for her to cease her self-depreciating ramblings, I spoke up, softly at first but gaining more fervor as I went on:

“You are biased, my love… Your self-esteem issues cloud your judgment. But in that confusion your mind is crippled and your intelligence handicapped. I find that taking your own advice is never the best bet, and usually results in not only failure but depression.” I spoke to her of my own shortcomings and failings, listing them out for her as a farmer would attempt to sell a horse at market. I noticed, though, throughout all of it, she refused my views. Insisting that none of those things made me a worse person, she adamantly maintained that I was an “amazing man.”

I however, continued, “I thank you for your praise, my love, but the key is to NEVER take your own view of yourself. That is the key to love…” And then it hit me. Like a truckload of stones dumped upon my head from a great height, I knew I had discovered what I had been so long in seeking. “That is love itself…” (Though at that point my words became rushed and my voice jumped a few octaves,) “Love, is valuing another person so much, you trust them enough to believe what they think about you, and to know it for truth.”

Yes indeed, my mind was aflame, loving someone and caring about them so very much that you are willing to forsake your own corrupted views about yourself and your lack of greatness, to accept the beliefs of that one special person for truth.

Eureka, I’ve found it, the meaning of it all.
The truth of the one word that can make any person change their mind. The one word that can make anyone trust another.