“How was your day?”
“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe”
“How are you?”
“I hope you’re feeling better”
“Have a good day today!”
“I miss you”
“Can you come over?”
“Can I come over?”
“Can I see you?”
“Can I call you?”
“Want something to drink?”
“Watch your step”
“Let’s watch a movie”
“What are you up to?”
“How is your day so far?”
“It will be okay”
“I’m here for you”
“Do you need anything?”
“Are you hungry?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice”
“You just made my day”
You don’t have to hear “I Love You” to know that someone does. Listen carefully. People speak from the heart more often than you think.
Through my love for you, I want to express my love for the whole cosmos, the whole of humanity, and all beings. By living with you, I want to learn to love everyone and all species. If I succeed in loving you, I will be able to love everyone and all species on Earth… This is the real message of love.
You must love in such a way that the person you love feels free.
At first you maybe start to like some person on the basis of, you know, features of the person. The way they look, or the way they act, or if they’re smart, or some combination of something. So in the beginning it’s I guess what you call features of the person that make you feel certain ways about the person.
But then if you get to where you, you know, love a person, everything sort of reverses. It’s not that you love the person because of certain things about the person anymore; it’s that you love the things about the person because you love the person. It kind of radiates out, instead of in. At least that’s the way…that’s the way it seems to me.
I will love you as a thief loves a gallery and as a crow loves a murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong.
Love is like believing that, unlike all the other santas at all the other malls, the mall santa at your local mall is the real Santa.
Somebody loves you if they don’t mind the quiet. They don’t mind running errands with you or cleaning your apartment while blasting some annoying music. There’s no pressure, no need to fill the silences. You know how with some of your friends there needs to be some sort of activity for you to hang out? You don’t feel comfortable just shooting the shit and watching bad reality TV with them. You need something that will keep the both of you busy to ensure there won’t be a void. That’s not love. That’s “Hey babe! I like you okay. Do you wanna grab lunch? I think we have enough to talk about to fill two hours!” It’s a damn dream when you find someone you can do nothing with. Whether you’re skydiving together or sitting at home and doing different things, it’s always comfortable. That is fucking love.
Someday someone is going to look at you with a light in their eyes you’ve never seen, they’ll look at you like you’re everything they’ve been looking for their entire lives. Wait for it.
I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps but other people emphasize my loneliness.
We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.
Do they still call it infatuation? That magic axe that chops away the world in one blow leaving only the couple standing there, trembling? Whatever they call it, it leaps over anything, takes the biggest chair, the largest slice, rules the ground wherever it walks from a mansion to a swamp and its selfishness is its beauty… People with no imagination fed it with sex - the clown of love. They don’t know the real kinds, the better kinds, where losses are cut and everybody benefits. Its takes a certain intelligence to love like that - softly, without props.
Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.
Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,