What love really is.
What love really is. love2016 stories
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emmahernndez
emmahernndezI love kind people. INFP.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago

What love really is.

by emmahernndez

I'm going to explain what love really is.

It’s not liking my photos on facebook or instagram.

It’s telling me “I love the way you are, really” when I least expect it.

It’s not staring at asses and skinny bodies and clothing brands.

It’s looking at the eyes, having apparently important but really funny conversations and smiling at the same stupid things.

It’s not sending nudes, it’s not using “sexy” as a compliment all the time, it’s not always being nothing but horny, it’s not just wanting to talk when it’s interesting to do it,

it’s not posting meaningless pictures so everybody can see how “happy” together we are, it’s not just saying “I love you” when it’s necessary,

it’s not caring the least as possible when you don’t get what you want, it’s not being selfish, it’s not a game, it’s not getting interested in perfect girls-bodies you can never have,

it’s not using me, it’s not abusing of me because I love you.

IT'S NOT.

But you know what

it is?

Love’s pure. Love’s real.

Love is what you feel when you’re bored but a person walks into the room and your heart seems to suddenly light up.

It’s when I’m there with you when you feel alone.

It’s when we go to walk in the park for hours, remaining the silence the whole time.

It’s when I want to try new things but with you. It’s when you feel my love and support just by the hold of my hand.

It’s when I keep silence when you don’t feel alright and give you a hug.

It’s when you imagine a future together. It’s when I need you before going to sleep and after waking up.

It’s when you see a thing such a book and it reminds you of me.

It’s when you can’t get used to not to see me there when you’re drinking your coffee.

It’s when you smile at me when I’m talking about something that excites me.

It’s when you ask me how’s going my book or if someone already died. It’s when we buy ice cream when any of us is going through a bad time.

It’s when, even in sickness or boredom, we remain together.

It’s when we say “I love you” when

we’re watching a funny movie or when we’re cooking or when we’re normally walking on the street or when we’re sleeping but suddenly one of us get awake because we must go to pee.

It’s when we don’t need nobody else but each other to be okay.

It’s when you know I feel intimidated by other girl’s bodies so you whisper in my ear “You’re hotter than her, babe. Don’t worry” and make me laugh.

It’s when we can go to the movies and laugh at every scene, even if it’s not funny, because we make fun of it.

It’s when the damn ashes are eternally being burned by the raging fire but never get faded.

Love’s that. Love’s trust, honesty, time, connection. Not just meaningless words and acts to keep me there because you’re not willing to admit you’re selfish enough to let me go.

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