There was once a time where I would’ve described love as free. As happy. As everything that is the opposite of bad. But I was wrong. Truth be told, I usually am. Love is not that. It isn’t any of those things. Love is knowing all the risks and still be willing to take them. Love is selfish. And selfless. Love has layers to it. Layers of forgiveness, of pain, of loss, of gain. Layers that I don’t even have a name for. Love is something no one person can describe. It’s this thing that sneaks up on you. It’s this unnamable force that slowly, but surely, overcomes. It tugs at the corners of your mouth and leads to the unexpected. Love is your mother telling you you have terrible taste in music. Love is your dad telling you you’re wrong no matter how right you may be. Love is listening to nonsense but still listening because it’s coming from your best friend who happens to be your grandfather. Love is laughing with an old lady who happens to be your grandmother. Love is sitting on a porch swing by yourself watching the sunset. Love is knowing that you can go home. Love is this thing that doesn’t make sense. Love is knowing when to stand up and when to back down. Love is not being scared to say the truth. The fact is that love is too many things. It’s hard, but it’s never ugly. It’s never terrible and coarse. It is never abusive or a game. In love you never lose because if you lose you lose everything. In love there’s no blaming, there’s no fighting because, there’s no pride and ego. In love you find that there is a lot. There’s a million different reasons to give up, and yet, in love you will find that whether you love yourself or someone else, it will always end up working. If it’s love you will never doubt it. You will never get up and run away. If it’s love you’ll face it and find that you were wrong. Because when it is love it shows you not what you want to see, but what you need to see…