Love isn't always a thunderclap moment. Sometimes it's as quiet as morning light creeping across rumpled sheets, as subtle as the way your hand finds mine in a crowded room without looking. For the longest time, I thought love had to shout to be real. I was waiting for fireworks, for grand gestures, for movie-script moments.
But true love? It whispers. It lives in the spaces between words, in shared silences, in the gentle rhythm of two hearts learning to beat as one. It's in the coffee cup that appears on your desk just when you need it, in the way they remember how you like your eggs, in the warmth of a borrowed jacket that smells like home.
I've learned that love isn't just about the falling - it's about the staying. It's about choosing someone every morning, even when the magic feels distant and the everyday feels heavy. It's about building something bigger than yourself, brick by brick, day by day, with someone who makes the construction site feel like sacred ground.
They don't write songs about this kind of love - the kind that shows up in hospital waiting rooms at 3 AM, that holds your hand through panic attacks, that knows your demons by name and chooses to stay anyway. The kind that sees you at your most unlovable and loves you even harder.
This mark I wear isn't just about romance - it's about all the forms love takes. The fierce love of a friend who shows up unannounced when you're falling apart. The quiet love of a stranger who holds the door when your hands are full. The steady love of someone who believes in you when you've forgotten how to believe in yourself.
Love isn't perfect - it's persistent. It's not about never falling; it's about always getting back up. It's not about never hurting each other; it's about choosing to heal together. It's not about finding someone who completes you; it's about finding someone who makes you want to complete yourself.
Remember: Love isn't something that happens to you. It's something you build, something you choose, something you become.
