They ask me what love is, and I am left with a blank face, and a hollow heart, the deep-rooted emptiness which echoes through my thoughts everytime.
Love? I sigh.
It is the lifetime of wait.
For that one person to return, who, you know, will never look back again.
Love is strengthening.
It is gathering all your broken pieces again, fixing them to create something so beautiful that your vulnerable heart grows fonder in awe.
Love is enduring.
It is facing the same person who has broken you, day after day, till the time you become indifferent to the hurt his mere presence causes to your being.
Love is forgiving.
The person who brought you more pain than happiness – just to make peace.
Love is letting go.
Of all the hurtful memories even when your insides are screaming not to.
Love is being kind.
Even when your ego is tearing apart the humility inside you, each time.
Love is pure.
It not only dips your heart into affection, but submerges your soul.