I used to think love was hearts shaking in fragile ribcages, ready to burst out when two loves meet. When palms touch and the conversation gets faster but your mind gets slower because all you can think about is their hand in yours, their fingers so long, their skin so soft and yours too rough and you hope they don’t mind it too much. Long walks that you’ll always remember but you’ll never know what you said because they gave you their jacket and you keep trying to remember how they smelt against your skin. I think love is calm. It’s ‘good morning’ and ‘have a good day’ and ‘I can’t wait to hear all about it but I’ll let you live it for now’. It’s the first time they tell you how the universe was made, and the first time you aren’t scared to disagree. It’s the way your palm used to sweat but it doesn’t anymore, the way your hands reach for each other’s when the lights are out. It’s arguing in the middle of the grocery store about what to make for dinner, and making a mess in the kitchen and not caring about who first threw the flour. It’s two hearts unsatisfied because they’ll never touch. It’s knowing that they’ll never really need to. It’s the way they’ll always be stubborn and you’ll always be kind, the way you’ll always be impatient but they’ll always calm your mind. It is the walk home after the firework display. It’s the way you’ll never ask, but they’ll still stay.
love is // r.e.s (via thoughtsintorhymes)
