Today is Valentine’s Day.
Today, I am single. I have been in love, been rejected, and been ignored.
But today, I still believe in love.
Love isn’t terrifying, rejection is. Love is extraordinary; it is beautiful.
Today, I was asked if I still believe in love, to which I answered, “of course. How can you not when there exist so many fascinating and enrapturing people to fall in love with?”
Today I am grateful. I am grateful for those whom I have loved and lost for growing me. I am grateful to those who have stuck by me and nurtured me. I am grateful for those who I have not yet met who will also grow me, and nurture me, and be the light in my eyes someday.
Today, I reminisce on what I know of love. (Ignore my grammatically incorrect plural pronoun, I’m being inclusive)
It’s how the very vibrations of their voice mean more to you than the words they are saying.
It’s when they dry tears they didn’t provoke, and mend cracks they didn’t create.
It’s that moment when you’re laughing so hard at something so stupid that for a fleeting instant every torturous, agonizing trauma you’ve been through, for just a moment, ceases to exist.
It’s when you’re a mess that they never complain about having to clean up.
It’s crawling into bed at midnight, but staying up ’til 3am talking about nothing and everything at the same time.
It’s when vomit, tears, and everything gross don’t matter.
It’s when society’s standards of beauty are irrelevant, because a look in their eyes somehow resonates in your soul that you are flawless just the way you are.
It’s the 2am “can you come get me” that never goes unanswered.
It is the equal appreciation not only of successes and triumphs, but of demons as well.
It does not have to be your forever. It doesn’t even have to be your “right now.” Love can be your best friend, your mother, your neighbor, or the boy from your class.
Love can be your salvation, your torture, your nightmare, and your dream.
What’s important is not WHO you love, but simply that you allow yourself to.
Today, I do not count my tears. I do not count my unanswered texts, my discarded love letters, or funerals I’ve attended.
Today, I count smiles. I count laughter. I count kisses.
Today, I measure my life in love.