Love is a quiet thing. It doesn't always knock; sometimes it slips through the crack beneath your door while you're busy tending to the rest of your life. It's a pair of old shoes—scuffed, familiar, but somehow still your favorite to wear. It's a song you hum without noticing, one that feels like it's always been there.
Some nights, love is the extra pillow someone remembered to leave on your side of the bed. Other days, it's the pause before someone answers when you ask if they're okay. Love isn't always sweet. It's the silence that settles after a fight, the sharpness of words you wish you hadn't said but know you'll still try to mend. It's the unspoken promise in staying anyway.
Love can be fleeting, yes. A match struck in the dark—it lights up everything for a moment and leaves you blind when it's gone. But sometimes, love lingers like light after the sun has set. Quiet. Steady. Still there, even when you stop looking for it.
It is not loud, and it is not easy. Love doesn't make you whole, but sometimes it sits beside the parts of you that ache and doesn't ask for anything in return. It's not the grand words or gestures; it's just being. You won't always see it, but if you pay close attention, you'll know it's there.
