What Love Means
When I was seven, I thought love meant holding hands at recess.
When I was thirteen, I thought love meant staying up past midnight texting someone who made my heart race.
When I was twenty, I thought love meant passion—the kind that felt like fireworks, loud and impossible to ignore.
But I didn't really understand love until the winter my father got sick.
The house changed that year. It became quieter, heavier. Hospital bags replaced grocery lists. The television stayed off. Even laughter felt careful, like it might break something fragile.
One night, I walked into the kitchen and found my mother sitting at the table long after everyone else had gone to bed. A single light was on. She was staring at a stack of medical bills.
"You should sleep," I said gently.
"In a minute," she replied.
The next morning, she woke before sunrise to make my father breakfast the way he liked it—even though he could barely eat. She helped him dress. She learned how to read charts and medication labels. She listened to doctors explain things no one ever wants to hear.
She never once called it sacrifice.
One evening, as snow fell quietly outside the hospital window, I watched her adjust his blanket. He looked smaller than I remembered. Weaker.
"Are you scared?" he whispered to her.
"Yes," she said honestly.
"Why do you stay so strong?"
She smiled, brushing his hair back. "Because loving you means staying."
That was it.
Not fireworks.
Not dramatic speeches.
Not perfect moments.
Staying.
Love means sitting in uncomfortable chairs for hours because someone you care about needs you there.
It means learning the hard things.
Forgiving the mistakes.
Choosing someone again after arguments, after misunderstandings, after long days.
Love is not just a feeling that arrives loudly.
It is a decision that returns quietly—every single day.
Years later, when I fell in love myself, I understood something new. Love wasn't about how fast my heart beat. It was about how safe it felt to rest it in someone else's hands.
Love means showing up.
It means listening.
It means staying when leaving would be easier.
And sometimes, it means sitting at a kitchen table under a single light, determined not to give up on the person across from you.
That's what love means.