Love has definitions of its’ own, and love is many kinds of love.
Love is when you hold that person dear in your heart. You can’t think of life without that person in it. You break into cold sweat at the thought of that person taken away from you, and how you are going to exist?
Love is sublime when it’s reciprocal, and terrible when it isn’t.
Love isn’t great when respect for each other isn’t there.
Love is when you hear the oft repeated jokes all over again.
Love is forgiveness.
Love is scary when you don’t know what the other feels for you, or it isn’t at par with the love you have.
True love is what a mother feels for her child. It never changes, and is a forever kind of love.
Love was when I was mad at my (late) husband, and the minute he smiled at me, my (wretched) mouth would smile right back at him. I knew I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay mad at him, but in those moments my mouth would acquire a will of its’ own.
Love was when we had a fight, and I would tell him, “I don’t like you anymore”, and he would say, “but I still love you”.