You know, I don’t believe in epic love stories.
Because you don’t fall in love on a battle field, when there’s death and gore and no promise of tomorrow. You don’t fall in love during a revolution, when all your mind can focus on is change. You don’t fall in love during the rise of a new world order, when you’re broken and tired and hoping the days to come will be better than the ones you’re leaving behind, and worth all the sacrifices they demanded.
You can realize you’re in love in these moments, without a doubt. The fear as they fall because you love them them too much to let them die. The pride as they stand beside you, fighting for what you know, in your heart, is right. That quiet moment when you look a them, just as broken and scared as you are, and you know that it was all worth it, because it’ll make a better world for them. In those moments you can realize you’ve fallen in love, but that’s not where love begins.
Because love begins in the little moments. A joke while traveling to lighten the mood and make your feet a bit less weary. A listening ear when your concerns about the battle standing before you become too much, and perhaps a kind word to help soothe those fears for the night. A warm shoulder to rest your head on during those cold nights, when even the fire before you does nothing to drive back the chill. A single look that brings laughter to your lips because you know, without a doubt, exactly what they mean, and a smile that follows from them because you got it.
It starts when you choose to place yourself at their side, when their voice becomes more soothing of a balm than any healer’s salve, when their absence is physically felt, and their return a recreation of the whole. When you trust them with who you are, truly, under the layers of walls and masks and shields you’ve built to keep yourself safe. When you’re truly you, and they’re themselves, together.
So I don’t believe in epic love stories. These stories can have epic moments, yes- moments that any reader would easily pick out in a story, that stick in the mind and shake the soul. But they’re just that, moments in time, a scene from the story to give it excitement. But the real love story isn’t there.
The real love story is small, small and easily missed, but all the more precious for being so.