Thursday 27 October 2016

Love is . . .

Published 15/02/2016 | 02:30

Love is what connects us.
Love is what connects us.

Love is when you know you are right but you bite your tongue anyway. What greater love could you show for anyone than to swallow it, to deny yourself the supreme pleasure of proving that you are right by virtue of a long legalistic argument that proves your point? But sometimes you need to just leave it be. Let them be happy rather than you be right.

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Love is when you accept, without even checking the facts, that they are always right when it comes to a disagreement they are having with anyone else.

Love is getting up off your ass to get them something when you really really don't want to. You are always glad you did.

Love is not pretending to still be asleep when someone small is kicking up in another bedroom.

Love is when you are doing something amazing and you wish she was there with you because you know that would complete it. Love is when it feels wasted without her.

Love is those moments when your children are so impossibly cute that you want to eat them.

Love is when their little faces collapse and they burrow into you and you can't imagine that someday you won't be the centre of the universe.

Love is when they literally dance for joy when you arrive in from work and you promise them you're not going out again.

Love is also when you arrive in and they keep their nose stuck in the ipad.

Love is when the older one has a really serious conversation with you about how the younger one has the best kisses because they are so soft, but she is careful to make sure you're not insulted because yours are great too, just not as soft..

Love is when you realise that your parents won't be there forever.

Love is when your mother is the only one you can really tell.

Love is sitting around your mother's dinner table eating roast lamb, having slept in the room you grew up in.

Love is being with people who really know you.

Love is a Campari and orange somewhere nice at the end of a sunny day, and silence.

Love is when they are sick and snotty and pathetic and they don't disgust you.

Love is being able to bitch about everyone - absolutely everyone - with someone, with both of you knowing this is just a moment and you really don't mean half of it and you still like the people involved.

Love is being able to say really evil things that you could not say to anyone else.

Love is when there is shorthand for everything.

Love is when you can get completely foolish and hysterical with laughter.

Love is when you say goodbye and they are gone again for another six months.

Love is when they come back again and you pick up as if they'd just left the room for five minutes.

Love is after you shout and they react as if you hit them, wounded and hurt and shocked and distrustful, and you feel you've let everyone down.

Love is when you come back from the supermarket having rung ten times to check what is needed and you arrive in and take off your wet coat and there's no milk and you go back out.

Love is those moments when you remember who you both were 20 years ago.

Love is shared history, memories.

Love is watching Frozen again.

Love is watching the same bit of Frozen again.

Love is when you sometimes watch someone in action, having a row, standing up for themselves or charming something out of someone and you are just in awe, and so proud.

Love is always having to say you're sorry.

Love is when you sometimes see someone coming from a distance and you don't realise it's them for a minute, and you think, 'Who's she?'

Love is one of the last things that gives meaning and magic in a world where god is dead and nothing matters anymore.

Love is what connects us, which is the only way we become true human beings, instead of hollowed-out husks.

Sunday Independent

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