Love

Love is highly misunderstood. Love is not a hot, flaming ball of destruction that comes into your life and changes you as a person. Nor is it a massive black hole that sucks away at your personal freedom.
Love is cool, and patient. The perfect kind of love is when you have been with a person for so long that the entire world is one big inside joke between the two of you. Love is when, at a glance, you can have an entire conversation without actually having to say anything.
Love is that person in your life that you don't need to think about when you're apart. When you don't have to miss someone. Even when they are away. Love is when you see them, and you hug and it's like the sores of the day's work wash away; you know it was worth it because finally falling into that embrace makes every last moment of work and tireless effort that life tends to throw at you easily forgotten.

Love is cool. Love is patient. Love can be painful, no doubt about that; but every pain is worth it. You know you truly love someone when you can literally imagine spending your life with them- not just saying it or romanticizing it. You can truly envision every bad thing and good thing about a person and be entirely okay with that being around forever. And, if you split up, years later you don't regret being with that person and you can still smile and laugh with a feeling of being generally content- you know you truly loved that person.

I know I loved her, because it doesn't hurt to look back on our memories.

I know I love her, because having her as a part of my life for all time seems not only easy, but natural.

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