Love is roses, extravagant orchids, fragile gardenias. Love is also tiny violet petals waiting patiently for the sun.
Love is scrubbing the bathroom floor so that someone else doesn’t have to.
Love is losing yourself in another heartbeat.
Love is that voice you hear on the other end of the phone soothing your fears.
Love is a still small hand wrapping around your little finger.
Love is the confidence to walk into a room full of strangers alone with your head held high.
Love is walking the floors.
Love is following in their footsteps.
Love is taking the early flight home and not wanting to be anywhere else.
Love is the moment after the moment you’ve discovered you’re in love.
Love is holding a space open.
Love is dancing when you don’t feel the rhythm.
Love is remembering the scar while wanting to erase it.
Love is collapsing at the end of the day with the comfort of a familiar face on the next pillow.
Happy Valentine's Day.
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I like it. Love really is made up of the little things every day, not the big extravagant gesture - something one learns as you get older. Not that I don't appreciate a gift AND candy AND flowers on Valentine's Day! ;-)
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