Love Isn’t Spectacular, It Is Simple

“A simple equation with no complications to leave you confused; If this is love, love, love, it’s the easiest thing to do.” — McFly

What is love?

Love to me isn’t a big bonfire. It’s the warmth of the hearth that keeps you safe and comfortable on cold nights. Even when the fire is dimly lit, the warmness remains.

Love to me isn’t belting your favourite songs at the top of your lungs. It is humming the tune while you’re doing mundane, daily tasks. It is natural. It becomes a part of you.

Love to me isn’t fireworks in the sky. It is the blue vastness that remains after the light show has ended. It engulfs and encompasses. You do not revolve around it. It revolves around you.

What is love?

Love to me is half-made beds on a weekday morning. It is fighting the urge to fall asleep again next to the one you love. It is the way the light breaks as it shines through the windows, slowly stroking a lover’s face.

Love to me is buying extra because you want to share. It is giving someone the last piece of your favourite food.

Love to me is comfortable silence. It is when you can be bored together — no complaints, no fuss. It is their presence that provides comfort.

Love is easy. It does not complicate.

Love to me is the sigh of relief you let out once you’re home with each other. It is feeling the world fall off your shoulders when you look at them.
Love alleviates. It does not punish.

So, what is love?

Love to me is when you wonder why you ever thought you would be better off alone in the first place, because now I know I am better with you.


This article was originally published on Writers’ Blokke.