love letters

Earlier today, I was asked to describe what love means to me. As excited as I was to attempt to articulate my thoughts on this, it felt a bit daunting. Because how can words come even close to describing the depth of a feeling? A feeling that most people might say I had never properly experienced? But the thing is, I have, and in some ways, more than most people might have.

I have experienced it with the unconditional and unfailing love of my parents: picnics, hikes, Sunday brunches, road trips, books. I have experienced carefree and joyful love with my friends: car rides, coffees, playlists, getting ready, studying, parties. There are so many people whom I can say I love. And there are so many people that I can say love me.

and that’s the beauty of it, of love. It’s not just about sex or boyfriends or whatever else people say. It’s about connection and curiosity and caring and companionship.

for me, love isn’t caring for someone despite their issues and insecurities, it’s caring for them because of it. You aren’t ignoring their faults, looking past them, praying that they might someday vanish. You’re helping them grow, improve, heal, and truly shine. It’s looking at them and saying, “I see you. I see that. And we’ll get past it, together. You and I will get through this.”

for me, love is being there for someone, no matter what, in whatever small or large way you can. It’s being their shoulder to cry on, the person they bounce ideas off of, the one they turn to for comfort, advice, and consolation. When you care for someone at their lowest, you are the person who helps them reach their highest. And that’s beautiful.

for me, love is shared playlist that you put on in car rides and quiet moments. It’s inside jokes that cause roaring laughter while everyone else stares in confusion and alarm. It’s being able to make them smile and laugh, and it’s holding them while they cry.

for me, love is comfortable silence, with no need for abrupt interruptions. Somehow, in the silence, you hear each other more than ever. It’s exchanging thoughts, ideas, and opinions, disguised as books and annotations. Shared thoughts and mixed opinions, leading to a somehow harmonious cocktail of ideas and opinions. Sometimes disagreeing, but never with disdain. It’s bucket lists and intertwined dreams. “I can’t wait to do this with you!”, “I’m so excited to go here!” Loving involvement in each other’s individual presents leads to the expectation of and excitement for a shared future.

for me, love is memories. Photo books and booths, experiences, emotions, that one time we went to that one place and had so. much. fun. It’s curiosity, always wanting to know more about them, never knowing enough. It’s yearning, when they're gone, and it feels like a piece of you is missing. When all you can do is think of them: memories playing in an endless loop.

for me, love is truly seeing someone. Not what they look like, but who they are. What makes up their being. Their values and ideas and opinions, and experiences. It’s more than just the shallow looks thrown about; it’s lingering glances, sheepishly exchanged smiles. Eye contact that feels endless, and you wish it was.

for me, love is “I saw this and thought of you.” It’s staring in each other’s minds. It’s cooking their favorite meal, buying their favorite flowers, and being their favorite person. You do this because you know them. You know them because you love them.

for me, love is being noticed, in everything you do. Love is being known, because they pay attention to you. It’s the little things, the scribbled i love yous on sticky notes. The snacks set out, pictures taken, gifts made, letters written. All of this is love, because all of this is you.

for me, love is unconditional. You don’t do it for reciprocation or for your own personal gain. You don’t do it to get something out of it. Simply put, you do it just for them.

they say I’m loveless, but how can that be? Love is so much more than romance; love is something people do.

and for me, a “loveless” girl, loving is you.