Love is waking up randomly at four in the morning and smiling right away because she’s the first thought on my mind and the last as I fall back asleep.
Love is falling asleep at night, wishing she was with me when she isn’t and thanking a God I don’t believe in for giving me the privilege of having the girl I love sleep next to me when she is.
Love is appreciating all of the smallest moments, like holding hands in the car, sharing a meal, listening to our favorite songs, running errands, watching movies, dancing in the kitchen, random cute texts, and so many more.
Love is appreciating the bigger moments, like meeting each others families, celebrating holidays, showing me parts of your favorite city, buying each other gifts, planning our future, spending a night together, befriending each others friends, and again so many more.
Love is the physical ache I feel when I miss her and I’m in need of her hug, her kiss, her cuddles, her touch. I’m in need of her presence, I’m in need of feeling at home again.
Love is the arguments, the disagreements, the bickering, but at the end of the day getting over it and making me fall for her a little harder and a little more every time.
Love is the wanting, the craving, the needing. It’s the sweat, the never getting enough of you even though I have all of you, it’s the marks we leave imprinted on each other, the unable to stop, the grabbing, the scratching, the biting, the sucking, the licking, the kissing. It’s the passion and wanting that with her for the rest of my life.
Love is joking around, laughing at each other and making fun of each other. It’s her making fun of my stupidness and shaking her head in disappointment when I say things that make the least of sense but her still always loving me at the end of the day.
Love is trusting her with my heart but never wanting her to give it back and her trusting me with hers in return, never willing to give it back.
Love is always holding her hand while she drives, twirling my thumb around hers, keeping my eyes on her while she sings the lyrics to every song I play knowing she can see me watching her every move always mesmerized by her beauty.
Love is warming her up when she’s cold, whether it’s holding her hand when we’re outside or cuddling up next to her under the sheets always skin on skin.
Love is kissing her forehead, rubbing her back, playing with her hair, all while she’s asleep, unable to acknowledge the gestures but still doing it anyways.
Love is the butterflies in my stomach that revive when I see her for the first time in a while, when our hands touch, when she says random things, when our lips meet. The butterflies I get just by looking at her, knowing that that girl is mine and I’m crazy fucking lucky to have her.
Love is hearing her say I love you and wanting it on repeat. Never getting sick of her saying those three words because every time she says them, I am reminded why I am here, why I am happy, why I am grateful. I am reminded that I am loved, loved by the girl that I have fallen so deeply in love with.
She is love.
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