Love is always love, in its many shapes and forms and colors -
its foundation remains untouched, though it comes to possess new layers and dents
new patterns and has growth spurts and evolutions in color, over time.
It’s harder to see when it’s dark, and in some lights it looks very different.
When you’re far away you sometimes think a lot more has changed
than what actually has.

Love never changes.
Love cannot be truly stolen; it is only ever thrown away,
and even then, traces of it remain, there at the bottom of your heart,
in little dull, grainy fragments.

In the Bible, love is always determinedly smiling, until it becomes the most natural thing in the world.
In the world, it’s very loud – laughing, screaming, crying, yelling, shouting, moaning and groaning, for a thousand different (and often selfish) reasons.
In our hearts, it’s heavy – either the kind that weighs you down ‘til you can hardly lift your feet, or the kind that’s like a thick, warm feathery quilt, perfect to huddle under when it’s too cold or you just need a break from life in general.

Love is an apparatus that teaches you to breathe underwater when you’re drowning.
An intoxicant puts a rosy haze on the world and pulls your lips up at the edges.
A vacuum that takes away the superfluousness and leaves you with what you really need.

(Remember that B is before L in the alphabet – and so is F).