It’s not love

Love. A four lettered word, with a million meanings. Yet, most of us fail to recognize it’s true guise. Love is not waiting for her texts. Love is not when he gets you roses. It’s not love when you spend all your night talking to each other. Love is not the butterflies you get when you see them. It’s not love when he apologizes. It’s not love when she cries for you. Love is not hidden in that jealousy. Love is not going crazy about how hot she is. Love is not in how he treats you like his everything. Love is not how you’re happy around them. Love is not considering the other more than you. Love is not in the “I love you”s and “I miss you”s. It’s not love in letting go. It’s not love when you can’t get over them. It’s not love.

Love is not a fairytale. Love is a battle. Love is not the heavens combined. Love is making even hell, seem like heaven. Love is the quiet whisper of your own soul. Love is not a hope. Love is the demand. Love is when you understand his hustle. Love is sleeping in peace knowing there’s someone you can call “mine”. Love is never jealous, it’s territorial. Love is not possessive, it’s protective. Love can get boring sometimes, but changing it is not an option. Love can get moody sometimes, but he will be fine soon. Love won’t always give you butterflies, but he’ll give you the warmth of those chilly night campfires. Love won’t be with you always, but she will belong to you forever. Love will fight, but will never let you go. Love is a tease. Love is a kid. Love will see you at your best, and hold your hands through the worst. Love is not blind, love is gifted with an unbiased sight. You look into her eyes, and you know what you mean to her. Love is not hot, pretty, handsome, smart, beautiful. Love is a promise. A promise you can’t break. And what’s broken, is not love. Love will stick to you. Love will hit you in the face and then correct you. Love will hate you sometimes. And then there will be no ‘I love you’s because Love doesn’t feel like it. But then Love will come back. Love will hold your face and maybe slap you for being an ass. Love is a pain. But he’s your pain in the ass. Love is only yours. Love is not in the “I love you”s.. it’s in the “I love you more..”.