There are too many impermanent things in this world. The movement from a caterpillar to a butterfly, from a child to adult. The passing of seasons. The sunset at the end of every day. The tide, and how the waves are never quite the same. Sure, there is so much beauty in the temporary—the fleeting, breathtaking moments to cherish, the pieces of this world that leave, but are imprinted in our minds nonetheless.

But when it comes to love, I’m not looking for something that is only good in the present, only wonderful for a period of time, whether that’s minutes, weeks, or years. I’m not interested in the love that only lasts one night, not a lifetime. Or the relationship that is merely conditional and convenient, rather than committed.

I’m not looking for love that comes and goes like the springtime weather, like the birds flying south for the winter and hushing their voices at night, like the bottles and cans that line my refrigerator with expiration dates printed on their faces, foreboding and bold.

I don’t want quick, fast, or hurried. I don’t want rushing to get somewhere before the love runs dry. I don’t want a kiss that doesn’t taste like forever from a mouth that can’t promise me tomorrow.

I don’t want to fall in love with someone whose every touch carves an ending into our skin.

When it comes to love, I want something that doesn’t run at the first sign of trouble, doesn’t come with a list of conditions, isn’t a slow decline to a gradual end.

I’m only looking for the love that stays. A love that continues. A love that knows all the impermanence of this world, yet pushes back against it. A love that believes. A love that trusts. A love that moves forward, even when the pieces don’t quite fit, even when there’s more stubbornness than solution, more frustration than faith.

I want a love that doesn’t call it quits when it’s hard, doesn’t walk away when things aren’t going right, doesn’t break a commitment because the road has taken a turn. I want a love that falters and breaks and bends and aches, yet day after day, step after step, keeps believing in the forevers we first promised.

In this temporary, imperfect world, I want a love that fights.

When I fall in love again, I want to stop being afraid. I want to stop worrying about whether or not the promises are sincere, the words are intentional, the kisses carry meaning. Because I want to know for certain they do. I want to step forward into the open arms of the person who loves me, and know that they’re in it for real, that they want forever, that each ‘I love you’ matters, and what we have is not an in-the-moment type of connection.

I want to know that I’m safe. That things won’t be perfect, but we’ll both battle like hell to stay together. I want to know that this isn’t casual, isn’t a ‘fling,’ isn’t some temporary relationship that will break at the simplest sign of trouble.

I want to know that our bodies are not going to last forever, but the love beating wild in our chest will. And I want to know that even when we fall down, even when we fight, even when we face difficulty, we’ll rise to our feet and stand together.

I want to know in a world where everything fades and everyone leaves, our love will stay.

Marisa Donnelly is a poet and author of the book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.