Love means

I was thinking about love

and what it actually means to me.

How would I describe it?

What would make me see -

that somebody loves me?

You know —

I stop before I enter every room.

I analyze.

Not twice.

More like a hundred times.

And I watch the way you move,

I listen to the words you choose.

And I read between the lines you speak,

trying to understand the truth you keep.

Tell me,

would you do the same?

Would you ask before you set the frame?

Would you wait long enough for me to explain?

Tell me, do you notice

while I fade away

and you're telling me about your day

that I grow quiet, I am standing still —

fighting versions of me

I try to kill.

You see —

I always sleep with one eye open,

I can’t leave things unspoken.

I need to get things off my chest.

Would you help me get to rest?

And while I tend to overexplain,

will you still be there, calling my name —

loving the person I became?

Tell me, will you be patient with me

when I can’t show the best of me?

And while my thoughts run wild, leaving me nervous like a child —

will you make me see

that you’re the one

still choosing me?

You know, I am a mirror of actions —

would you dare to face reflections?

Would you be honest with me —

being scared of losing me?

Flirting is easy when nothing is real,

when no one stays long enough to feel.

So whatever happens —

don’t leave me blue.

Speak whatever it is that's true.

Tell me —

does your soul even know your name?

Or have you lost a part like I did too?

A person I thought once was true.

So what is love — and what does it mean to me?

Love is a choice

against our fear.

Love means not to disappear.

Building a house for love to grow —

a person, a home,

a safe place two people call their own.

So, would you promise

choosing my heart before your pride?

Would you promise

to not leave us behind?

Would you promise

to move closer when things get tough?

Would you promise to stay

even when we doubt we are enough?

They call me a romantic, but let me nail it down.

I don’t mean fairy tales and a princess with a crown.

Love is in the details daily life tries to hide —

in quiet questions on an ordinary night.

In the way a look says more than most would dare.

In the way we pause before the kiss we share.

Love is asking — did you eat?

Knowing I'd say,“I’m fine,” instead of “weak.”

Love is staying when leaving would be easier to do.

Love is in the way we hold on and make it true.

Love is driving each other insane

and still choosing the same flame.

Billions of people in this world

who might fit somewhere in mine —

but I choose you

and turn my world to make you mine.