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It's anticipation.
Love is flirting outrageously
and still remembering that the person at
your side is not obligated
to do anything.
It's respect
Love is an imperfection in
yourself not bothering you.
It's acceptance.
Love is passing up an opportunity
because the time isn't right yet.
It's patience.
Love is a back massage that
starts above the hairline and endsaround the insoles.
It's exploration.
Love is not having to say
"Let's make love," because you know
what the other person
wants.
It's understanding.
Love is being given an honest
chance to say no when you thought
you were committed.
It's consideration.
Love is both of you remembering
protection.
It's responsibility.
Love is saying the perfect
phrase to make a solemn embrace
dissolve into giggles.
It's humour.
Love is being told "Stop
and I'll kill you".
It's desire.
Love is reviewing the damage
to your living room and
realizing personal effects
are strewn in a clockwise pattern from
the front door to the bedroom.
It's abandonment.
Love is seeing what your
lover really looks like forthe first time.
It's truth.
Love is knowing what time
it is and not caring.
It's joy.
Love is the arms around you
tightening their embrace.
It's ecstasy.
Love is seeing a new side
of a person you thought you knew.
It's renewal.
Love is telling a person
if you have to leave,
you will let them sleep,
and
being told they would rather
be woken.
It's tenderness.
Love is waking up to find
the subject of the dream you were having
asleep on your shoulder.
It's where fantasy meets
reality.
Love is being there to wake
your lover. Slowly.
It's sensuousness.
Love is belatedly knowing
why you bothered to buy a queen-sized
bed three years ago.
It's practicality.
Love is two people
only taking up a third of a
queen-sized bed.
It's closeness.
Love is knowing you gave
the extra set of keys to your apartment
to the right person.
It's trust.
Love is saying good-bye and
knowing you will be back by mutual consent.
It's faith.
Love is stretching your arms
and discovering the real
meaning of the word
"sore".
It's a lesson in human frailty.
Love is opening your medicine
cabinet and finding your tube of
toothpaste turned into a
pretzel.
It's adaptation.
Love is sitting at the window,
looking out and remembering who you
were with the night before.
It's reflection.
Love is hearing the weather
forecast for a winter storm and wishing you
could spend it in bed with
your lover.
It's loneliness.
Love is stories that will
never be told.
It's personal.
