Love is silence and love is, sometimes, hidden behind the curtains of your living room. Love is cooking something you really do adore, and love is spending unforgettable and inexhaustible minutes talking about nothing with your soulmate while you both wait for your tea.
Love is, in some of the cases, shy, really shy. And sometimes it appears when is already too late. Love is laughing with your best friend, buying ice cream even when it's winter and laughing about eachother's goosebumps.
Love is the never ending feeling we have for our history, for the ones who took, or are taking, part in our lifes, and for all the things we do for ourselves, without thinking in anything else but us. Love is looking at old photographies of your parents and laughing and wishing to have, one day, a photobook like theirs.
Love is regretting, is repenting, remembering, hearing, trying to forget (always and always again, in vain), hurting, getting hurt, hugging, reading, making mistakes, making the right choices e making sacrifices.
Love is the action of getting out of your confort zone, is the action of making sacrifices, is the action of doing something you don't like. Is taking pictures against your wishes, is smiling even though you're exhausted.
Love is feeling unsure, unfocused, spoiled, brave, realized. Love is daydreaming, making amd planning surprises, making plans. Love is giving yourself without expectations of any return.
Love is complicated, love can hurt, love can make you go insane. Love can change, love can forgive. Love can endure generations, love can be sateless, uncontrollable and unpredictable.
Love cures all, love can leave open scars, recent scars, scars.
But love is never gone.