My little Butterflies.

Monday, September 5, 2011

That place.


Love isn’t about the romantic nights or gifts. It isn’t about fireworks going off around you when you have that first, real, kiss. Love isn’t about kissing in the rain and dancing beneath the stars. It isn’t about the big moments or the big surprises. Love is not a fairytale. Love is about still having the butterflies after years. It’s about the second looks and laying in bed wide awake, all night, because you can’t go to sleep mad at each other. It’s about being willing to sacrifice, literally, everything for someone, just because you care so deeply for them. It’s not about buying them gifts, but it’s about leaving them little presents here and there, just to remind them that you are constantly thinking about them. Love is about all of the little things, that add up to really big things. Love is rare and special, but should not be treated as if it will break. Love needs to be thrown around and beat up a little bit, worn in, but not worn down. Love needs to be a comfortable feeling, a place to go when NO ONE else in the world can relate. A safe place, where you know that no matter how ugly you look or how angry you are, you will still be… loved.

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