Moving on from all the hate, can we talk about how beautiful love is? Knowing the words from another person’s mouth before they ever say them, learning everything about them, watching tutorials on how to help them, thinking about them within every song, and searching for the color of their eyes through every day, and loving them so much that even your worst fears pales in comparison to losing them forever.
It’s even more beautiful when you wish to be their soldier on the battlefield, to take every shot for them, to slowly bleed out while the life drains from your body just to slowly rise the flag of your adored love.
I could have wished for a million girls with a funny personality, a pretty face, beautiful eyes, a smile that could antagonize the sun for not being bright enough, and a laugh so melodic that my favorite chorus pauses so I can listen to it. I could have gotten any girl I want. I still could, but one look into her eyes, one familiar smile, and all of sudden it’s the first time I ever heard her laughter ring in my ears. It’s the time I realized I wanted her. Then it’s the time I realized I loved her.
I fall in love with her more every day. I see her more every day. I’ve realized that love isn’t limited, and it’s not measured in that adrenaline, or the soul crushing anxiety, or the butterflies that grow into the depth of your stomach that’s merely a warning sign.
Love is never measured by days or weeks, or by the highs and the lows. It’s measured by the silence that lingers when you’re both tired and where you both want to sink to your knees and pray for forgiveness that’s been unknown to mankind as long as our feet have roamed this earth. Still. Every day, I choose to be hers. I choose to be the shield that she can wield for ever and always. To be her soldier that protects her country.
