Love is falling off your bike and scraping your knees at seven years old
Tears streaming down your face and stinging through your legs but all you want to do is get back on and go flying down that hill again.
Love is paitent. It waits. It fades. It ebbs and flows.
Love is the ocean. It gets pulled in and pulled back out day by day. Some days are stronger than others. Some days are weaker.
Love is warm sunshine beaming across soft skin and love is bitter wind whipping your hair around in your face and leaving goosebumps on your skin.
Love is gentle hellos and quiet goodbyes.
Love is knowing when they aren’t yours, and not making them be.