Love to me is learning how to say I love you in a language your partner speaks.

Love to me is researching a topic your partner is interested in.

Love to me is sitting in silence and being able to be comfortable in that silence.

Love to me is eating the things off your partner’s plate that they don’t like, and having them eat from your plate the things you don’t like.

Love to me is trusting your partner no matter what.

Love to me is hearing your partner dance and sing in the kitchen.

Love is something that’s still foreign to me, but it’s something I want to learn more of.

It’s not something I need to survive, but I know it is something that makes you thrive.

Love is flowers and treats and hugs and kisses and sharing books and holding hands.

And love is dancing to a song that only you can hear, and wearing each other’s clothes.

Love is beautiful and love is ugly and love is love.

Love can also be a mother working for her child.

Grandparents taking their grandchild to the park, just to spend extra time with them.

A friend holding the other through tears and anger.

Love is sending letters to your lover in another country, counting the days until they return.

Love is loving someone so deeply, knowing they’re not your true love.

Love is watching the sunset, walking down the beach.

Love is caring selflessly for others.

Love is being selfish.

Love is a conundrum, a contradiction, a dialetheia.

Love is giving a child you don’t know a sticker.

Love is smiling at strangers.

Love is complimenting someone you don’t know.

Love is saying hello.

But if love is all these things, what is it not?

If love can be so much, definitions can blur.

Because love is something different for everyone.

Because Love to me is not Love to you.

Because my Love is holding hands and hugging, and yours can be gifting and words.

Love is flexible, interchangeable.

And I think Love is Beautiful.

Fin