What is love?
It’s not the crap we hear about in pop music, read about in books or watch unfold on the movie or TV screen. That is superficial love. I mean real love. What is it? I’m not the smartest guy in the room by a long shot, but after nearly 42 years of living, I am beginning to figure it out.
Love is when you hold your partner in your arms, rather than turning away in disgust, when they are too sick to control their bodily functions.
Love is putting a piece of your paycheck into a savings account for your kid, even when it means you’ll have to skip McDonald’s for a month.
Love is comforting your sobbing mate at three in the morning because they just lost someone important to them and you’re the only one they can turn to, even though you have to be up in three hours for work.
Love is going to your parents’ 50th wedding anniversary party, even though you may have better things to do.
Love happens at that worst moment in a fight when you and your partner are screaming at each other and you storm out of the house, but through the white hot anger, you know you’ll be back.
Love is rescuing an animal from a shelter and treating it like a member of the family.
Love is a soldier in a foreign land, fighting for their home thousands of miles away.
Love is when your mate does you wrong and you have them dead to rites, and you choose to forgive them.
Love is standing in a hospital, feeling your heart break as you decide to take someone off of life support because you can’t stand to watch them suffer one minute longer.
Love is the easiest thing to say and the hardest thing to do.
Love is the universal thing that everyone needs.
Love is the thing that some people have.
Love is the thing that too few of us know how to truly give.
