The first explosion you feel inside when you kiss the person you know is going to be the death
You know who I’m talking about.
The one whose love you can’t go a day without craving.
The one whose voice makes you melt like snow at first contact.
Slow, yet not slow enough because you swear you could sit there and melt your whole life away
if it meant that they’d stay close.
Love is intoxicating.
It’s the first twinge you feel inside that translates to the very first
“Hey, mama” That you will ever hear.
The first moment you look down at your abdomen and experience the fullness of the glory of
The time you hear their heart race,
And then you see them.
It's at that moment that you realize that the world that He put you in was never for you, but for
And it’s in that moment that you realize what it means to love.
Love is miraculous.
Love is the abnormally shaped hole inside that no feeling, person or object can ever seem to fill.
Because they’re gone.
The one you’d give it all up for.
It’s what makes you wish it were you instead.
It’s what causes every “should’ve,” “could’ve,” and “would’ve” scenario to play out in your head
as you ruminate on how you could’ve saved them.
How you could’ve protected them from whatever endangered them.
Whether it was the tumor.
Or the drugs.
Or the ones they love.
Love is loss.
Love is what causes the most pain you’ll ever feel when you lose it.
It’s what causes the most regret when you realize you didn’t show it enough.
It’s what results in a wounded, rotten heart after being misused and abused by life.
Love is a disease.
But then you wake up the next morning.
You still feel the pain.
But it seems as if every sunrise numbs the aching a little bit more.
It seems that every day that comes around
makes that hole shrink in diameter, if only a small bit.
That's because, above all things, Love is healing.
Above all things, Love is refuge.
Above all things, Love is everlasting.
Love is God.
And God is Love.
And we are of God.
So Love is Us.
And we are Love.
That’s what love is.