Love

How are so many souls in love and yet not home?
In a world where people are looking for a person who is compatible with them, who is understanding and accommodating. Someone who is unbelievably romantic or just their soulmate, love is lost.
There is a technicality to love now, a logic, love now makes sense which is not how it should be.
Love was supposed to be pure, untouched by the ones who didn't completely embrace it; body, mind, and soul. Love was never supposed to make sense.
Love was supposed to be home. Somewhere a person could rest their heart, head, and their existences without prejudice or the fear of loss. Like in the lap of one's mother or a hug from a father, where worries dissipate into thin air, and gratitude fills a heart. Where people and not places is how one remembers, where hearts reside, permanently in peace.
Love was supposed to be like in the poems of Rumi, unabashedly brazen and proud of its presence.
Love was supposed to make a heart beat and soul sing, love was supposed to be everything that it isn't now. Love was supposed to be home. How are we all in love and yet not home?