In the beginning, the universe was simple
hydrogen adrift, uniform, featureless.
No spark. No shape. No meaning.
Then came gravity. the invisible hand that pulled atoms toward each other.
Not out of need, but out of attraction.
It didn’t shout. It didn’t rush.
It simply drew things closer.
And in that closeness? Friction. Heat. Fire.
Stars were born.
Inside those stars: gold, carbon, diamond, uranium, the rare, the radiant, the necessary.
Then came life. Then came us.
Without gravity, the universe would have remained cold. Silent. Pointless.
With it, it sang.
So too with love.
We, too, begin as scattered selves.
Drifting. Guarded. Independent.
Then someone enters our orbit
not violently, but undeniably…
and we feel pulled.
And when love is real - not forceful, but fundamental - it becomes gravity.
It creates heat where there was indifference.
It forges meaning where there was monotony.
It makes the rarest things - trust, sacrifice, ecstasy, forgiveness… possible.
Without love, we remain inert.
With it, we combust into something bigger than ourselves.
Not every force is loud.
Some reshape the cosmos… quietly, persistently - one touch at a time.
In astrophysics, gravity doesn’t merely hold things together, it ignites fusion, births stars, and enables time itself to have consequence. Likewise, in human connection, love isn’t just an emotion; it is the unseen force that creates depth, memory, meaning, and the conditions for growth. Without gravity, the universe is static. Without love, so are we.
