Love is a verb.
A verb is an action.
An action is doing, is being.
Love is behaving in a way that shows care, that listens, that hears, that sees. Love is affirming others, making them part of our lives, creating spaces where we exist together.
Love is intimate and love is public. Love takes many forms. In its truest form, perhaps, love is peace.
Over cups of coffee, they talk about work. They talk about family. They talk about books.
She leans forward. “And what about you?” She uses his name for the first time in their conversation. “Are you happy?”
He nods. A shy smile. Mentions a few mutual friends. Mentions someone’s new girlfriend. “I’ve been seeing someone, as well,” he says, his smile broader.
Her own smile matches his and she’s happy. She asks questions; he gives answers.
“Are you in love?”
He tilts his head side to side, small smile on his lips and quiet joy in his eyes, a look she’s seen a thousand times before. “Yeah.”
His smile grows and she’s happy.
Loving is wishing for others what we want for ourselves, and sometimes more.
Loving is playing a part in the joys of others and doing what we can to create those joys.
And as with everything else, love surprises. We’re sometimes stunned, taken aback. People we’ve never imagined walk into our lives. People we’ve rarely been without fade into the background. Sometimes, people who love us are generous in ways we’ve never known, astonishing in the ways they express love to us and welcome our love in return. People who love show care, compassion, forgiveness. They accept who we were, affirm who we are, and remain part of our journey as we become.
The first emotion is happiness. Others would come later, but happiness remains for the rest of the afternoon.
Sometimes the people we love stand by our side and cling as tightly to our hands as we do to theirs. Sometimes they hold us up and sometimes it is our turn to steady them. Sometimes we close our eyes and jump together; sometimes one encourages the other along. Sometimes we hesitate because we’re not sure. And then, sometimes, we know.
Yet, our paths might diverge. One might ask how far while the other has already jumped. One might run headlong into whatever’s next while the other is unsure of what’s now. We might make mistakes. We might hurt. We might cry. We might realize it is best to go our separate ways, forge unique trails, learn who we are as individuals. We might find ourselves completely different people.
Sometimes we stop speaking. We might realize the most loving action is to walk away or to let another go. Sometimes we get back in touch. We might look on from afar, holding our breath.
They finish their coffee and go for a walk. They talk some more.
“You’ve changed a lot,” she observes.
“Yes,” he agrees, “and so have you.”
She nods. They look at each other and she puts up her hand. They high-five.
When it’s time to go, it’s his turn to put up his hand. They high-five again. They’d hugged hello out of habit but hug goodbye out of fondness. Out of love.
Love is more than a feeling.
Love is a verb.
A verb is an action.
When we act, we do. We are. We become. We can love those around us, and we can love ourselves, through the choices we make, our accomplishments, the lives we lead.
We love through what we do. We fall in love when others respond, when they let us in, when they act towards us as we do towards them. We can love without being in love, but we cannot fall in love without loving.
Love is more than a feeling.
Love is a verb.
A verb is an action.
Love is doing. Love is being. Love is peace.
By Rebecca Michelle 