Marisa Donnelly

How do you know what love is, will be, will become? Or if it will hurt? You don’t. But that’s the beautiful thing.

When we fall in love with someone, when we choose to intertwine our hearts with one another, we want to give, want to share, want to open and offer all of ourselves—but this isn’t about the physical, tangible things. This is about our heart, our emotion, our love.

Be patient with it, for you are only human.

Maybe ‘home’ is not about where you are, but about how you feel. The way you find yourself belonging to a person or place, simply because it’s where your heart has decided to rest.

Father, please be with this boy I loved. Show him how powerful you are, how big your heart is. Show him the love you want for him—a love that is pure, passion, and honorable to both him, and you.

You are not defined by your pain, by your past, by what has broken you. You are defined by how you believe and by how you rise.

There is no set definition for love. No foolproof means of identifying or labeling it, no sure way to know whether what you’re feeling is pounding in your partner’s heart. But it’s beautiful, nonetheless.

See, physical love will not last. Beauty will fade, attraction will dwindle, and passion for the body will be replaced by passion for the mind. And that’s the love I want to have.

Maybe one day I won’t have to miss you. Because you’ll be here.

I’m sorry for ever allowing myself to believe I wasn’t enough.

Displacement.That’s what I call it: the feeling of not really knowing where you fit. When you’re tied to a place you’ve always known but suddenly feel more comfortable somewhere new. When you’re connected to more than one location, considering both of them where you belong

I promise to stay.

Maybe they call it ‘falling’ because it’s just that—you completely trip, slip, lose control, and crash into another person. Head over heels. All of you. Into their open arms.

Bring me light when I’m in darkness and a path to follow when I feel like I’m wandering in circles. When doors close in front of me, give me new ones to open. When people walk away, give me courage to seek out relationships that both build me, and honor you.

I can’t wait to brush my teeth next to you, sharing the mirror, making faces with our toothpaste-covered tongues.

I love that you’re not afraid to let me in, to talk to me, to be emotional and vulnerable and raw and real. I love that you put aside your doubts and trust me, that you give me a chance to love you, really love you, even where it hurts.

If you love her, let her be. Let her be as she is—strong and soft, gentle and passionate.

Love is consistent.