Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
― Anaïs Nin
Love is a verb. Anyone can claim to love you, but do their actions support that claim?
Love is knowing when to stay quiet, and what words to select that will sooth.
Love is allowing your partner the dignity of making their own mistakes.
Love is doing the next right thing, even though you’d rather do anything but that one thing.
Love is accepting the person for who they are, and not expecting them to be who you want them to be.
Love is having that person by your side when it feels like the rest of the world is charging against you.
Love is a commitment.
Love is loving yourself enough that others can love you back.
Love is the ability to be honest; with yourself and with each other.
Love is knowing that sometimes the most loving thing you can do, is stay silent.
Love is allowing the other person to live free of your expectations, demands, or unreasonable requests.