Love is 700 miles away.
Love is spending $400 on gas alone to pick her up and spend a weekend with her.
Love is skyping every night and waking up and seeing him right there next to you.
Love is not talking for three days because work and family kept you busy.
Love is not seeing each other for two months.
Love is piles of stress on your shoulders, working to be together again.
Love is loving their parents too, no matter how crazy they might be, or how hard they make things.
Love is forcing her to talk to other people and make friends, because he sees how much them being apart is killing her.
Love is making a playlist of all the songs he played in the car, to listen to every night.
Love is sleeping with her blanket she let you keep, and his pillow.
Love is putting the future aside to focus on the now, because without the now, there is no future- as hard as the now might be.
Love is a one word reply to her text, because you’re busy but you made time to answer.
Love is staying up until 4 am because that’s when he gets off work, even if she works at 6 am and should’ve really gotten some sleep.
Love is refusing to talk to her so she does sleep.
Love is giving him his space, because everything that’s stressing him out- is for her.
Love is forgetting to say thank you, but knowing she’s thankful.
Love is love you, you too.
Love is unanswered texts, replaced with answered calls.
Love is crying yourself to sleep.
Love is laughing until you cry.
Love is snuggles and hugs and kisses.
Love is me and you.
Love is never perfect.
Love is the long run.
I’ve always been a realist
until it comes to love.
Our breath is just breath,
screws tighten in my chest,
When i hear the mellow noun, that is
In the real world,
there’s no use for metaphors,
the sky is just blue
because of sun and molecules.
Not because it resembles the colour of your eyes.
Love- a part of me I’m yet to find.
But I swear I’ve felt it a few times,
with girls in high heels hanging up missing signs.
Love- a part of me I’m too scared to find.
I thought the taste of champagne would take it all away,
but it found a way into your walk-
and I fell drunk on your footsteps.
I sipped you slowly through a straw,
but by the end of the night
you were a feature in films I’ve seen