Love is staying.
I used to think it was other things like
A considerate whisper in my ear that lands like a hand written love letter
Holding my hair back while I puke up tequila shots, even though you warned me not to.
Asking how my mom is doing
Flowers in a vase when I get home
A good morning text
A homemade birthday cake, even if it’s ugly
Arms wrapped around my grieving body when I anticipate my mother’s death
A set of listening ears when I’ve had a hard day
Calming words when my emotions are out of control, when other people would tell me I’m just being dramatic
And love is these things, but these are all just happenings inside of it
Love is staying
Love is that 9 years have passed and I still see your black curls peeping through sleeping covers at 6am
Love is saying. ‘I was being a dumbass and I’m sorry’ thousands of times
Love is when he goes camping with me even though sleeping on the ground is an actual living hell to him
Love is bringing your fried catfish lunch home from the office instead of eating it yourself because you know it’s my favorite
Love is a culmination of specific and personal acts and gestures that only time and effort can collect
Love is an equation of fighting to keep it and letting it flow. The variations of that equation are ever changing, ever becoming something else, always becoming something it’s never been. Participating in this equation is the inextricable element that preserves the vitality of Love itself
He’s my Love because he stays, despite it all.