Growing up I thought love was
Stolen kisses, heart racing
Butterflies.
It was falling so hard
And hitting the ground each time they said goodbye.

Maybe love is just consistency
And infatuation is erratic—
Like your heartbeat when
You’re around them.
The silence when they leave is so loud.
I wish I learned how to drown it out.

Now I know that love is
Slow, deliberate kisses.
Slow, deliberate *******.
His hands wrapped around my back
So tightly I am enveloped in him.
It’s waking up next to the same person for years.
It’s crying into their shoulder
And them crying into yours.
It’s them whispering when they’re mad,
Never calling you names.
Even when you hurt them.
Even when you deserve it.

I love our comfortable silence now,
I never have to be anybody but me.
He loves me.