Love is when you think ‘idiot’ and say ‘darling’.
Love’s ‘well done’ and not ‘I told you so’.
Love is reading the same story over and over and over again and not missing any of the words or skipping pages.
Love is the difficult decision: doing what you can, not what you should.
Love means never having to say you’re sorry. Love means saying you’re sorry anyway.
Love sometimes means acting like you’re sorry until you are — and then saying it.
Love is taking turns at the bathroom mirror, and straightening the towels.
Love is being there and saying nothing.
Love is saying the thing that needs saying even if it hurts.
Love is making a real effort to be on time.
Love is telling them their lateness drives you crazy.
Love is healing those hurts with your tears or with changed behaviour.
Love is when someone keeps going because you think they’re worth it,
and keeping on until they think so too.
Love is welcoming the stranger and hoping you’ll get to know them.
Love is welcoming the acquaintance as if they’re a friend.
Love is acting as if you like them.
Love sometimes pretends until it’s real
Love is choosing the chair in the shade when you crave sunshine.
Love means it’s okay to be wrong.
Love is counting the cost: giving the good stuff to the food bank and taking the instant noodles home.
Love is putting as much in the collection tin as you spent on a latte.
Love is when the toast’s burned and the tea’s cold and you say thank you.
Love’s drinking cold tea and eating burned toast with unbuttered corners and too much marmite.
Love’s not about food, it’s the feeding
Love’s not about blood, or the bleeding, or bandages
It’s being there to staunch and to bind firmly with gentle hands.
Love is adjusting the volume
It’s laying a basil leaf on the sun-warmed flesh of a fresh tomato
Love isn’t enough
but it’s the greatest.
Love is the music that animates the dance.
bronwyn angela white (2012), wellington