It’s true, girls our age covet such a thing and romanticize too much. Our undying need to be “in love” deludes what real love is. I listen to people speak and write of love, and I cannot bring myself to take most seriously. Love is not giggling endlessly on a date. Love is not your first kiss, or the first boy who shows a general interest in your existence. Love is not infatuation, or the need to possess. Love is not a status, and love is not to be taken for granite. There are so many people, young people, my age, who think love is all of these things, but fail to see the bigger picture.
Love is the feeling you get when you look into his eyes; eyes that have seem to stolen the beauty of the ocean. The shape of his body, or the feel of his skin; his hand in yours. The way his voice entangles every syllable of your name, and the way you two just get each and every thing about one another. Love is countless hours spent next to a hospital bed; starving, sleep deprived, and close to broken but still smiling. It is watching every bone protrude itself from his skin and still thinking every inch of him is pure perfection. Love is sleeping in a chair with your arm, numb from lack of circulation, slouched over the side holding his hand. Love is spending countless hours comforting and talking about what it will be like when this is all over.
Love is wiping away every one of his “I can’t do this anymore” tears in the dark on a cold October night, and holding back every one of yours.
Love isn't formed like the cheesy 80's movies you watch, and no boy is going to be your fairytale price charming. Love is not a crudly drawn heart, it is a bulging mass of muscle and blood. It tests every fiber of your being,shakes your conscience, and it can shatter you in an instant.