Love, in All Its Forms

Love has always fascinated me—not just the romantic kind we read about in novels, but the quiet, unspoken moments that shape our lives. The love between friends who know each other’s thoughts before they’re spoken. The love in a mother’s gentle touch when she straightens your collar before you leave. The love that lingers in shared laughter, in stolen glances, in the spaces between words.

I used to think love had to be grand—dramatic confessions, sweeping gestures, the kind that makes your heart race. But over time, I’ve realized that love is often found in the smallest details. It’s in someone remembering how you like your coffee, in a text that says, Get home safe. It’s in silence, in understanding, in simply being there.

Love has broken me, healed me, and reshaped me in ways I never expected. It has taught me that vulnerability isn’t weakness, that patience is a kind of devotion, and that sometimes, letting go is an act of love itself.

And so, I love. In the way I show up for the people who matter. In the way I appreciate fleeting moments. In the way I choose kindness, even when it’s hard. Because at the end of the day, love isn’t just something we receive—it’s something we give, in a million different ways