What I know about love.
“If you realized how beautiful you are, you would fall at your own feet.”
— Byron Katie
He loves your body. Really, he does. He thinks you’re soft and you smell so good and something happens in his belly when you snuggle up close — like absolute yearning and total satisfaction, all at once. He loves when you strut around in heels and he loves when you’re wearing no make-up at all and he secretly wishes you’d quit wearing sticky lipgloss and switch to minty chapstick, forever. He can’t fathom how you could ever look in the mirror and feel anything less than overwhelmed with amazement. He wonders, often, if he’s “good enough” for you. He’s your biggest fan. He thinks you can do anything. To him, you are THE everything.
To him, you are a queen.
When you take command, she melts. (Plan the date. Handle the details. Make the effort.) When you write her a handwritten note she will keep it forever. She loves when you’re thinking about her when she is not around. (When that happens, tell her.) Her internal architecture rearranged the moment that she met you, and again the moment that she realized she loved you. She is ready to build empires with you. She loves the way the back of your neck smells, the scruff of your face at five o’ clock, and the way your arms wrap around her, completely. She wonders, sometimes, if she’s “good enough” to keep you. She’s your biggest fan. She thinks you can be anything. To her, you’re MORE than everything.
To her, you are a king.
You are more lovable, more kissable, more hug-able, more hold-able, more everything-able than you can possibly know.
If you have found someone to love, keep loving.
If you are seeking someone to love, keep going.
“Someone you haven’t met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.”
— Danielle LaPorte
And that’s what I know about love.