Iām not saying that at some point love isnāt staying up until 2am phone calls or stealing kisses when you least expect it, or instantly falling for each otherās favorite songs because it is, or at least thatās what the lead up to it feels like, but real love, is so much more. Itās going out at 12am to get something to eat for your wife who canāt get out of bed, itās listening to them as they explode with vulnerability on your living room couch talking about how they were only so young when their parents passed on. itās remembering how someone likes their coffee in the morning without askingāwithout ever asking, itās visiting someone in the hospital knowing the last thing you want to do is see them in that condition, itās wanting to be with that person despite everything, the future, the past, and everything in between, itās the intimate things that you donāt even realize involve such intimacy, but they do, in secret, like the pinky promises you two made behind your back, to love one another for always, in the time you thought you were in love, when you were actually just on your way to it.
— Unknown (via wryer)
(via witchydarling)
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