What is Love?

Love is witness.
To see me—truly—and choose anyway.

To know I walk alone in one direction,
and still walk alone in yours.
But we move.
Same motion, different paths.

Love cannot be conditional.
If it is, a Lie is present.
Love doesn’t barter.
Love exposes.

I live on the line between love and hate.
Not because I’m confused.
Because I’m honest.
I don’t hate anyone.
But I love some.
Or I hate some.
And love everyone else.

The ones I love may think I want them to suffer.
The ones I hate may think I want them to thrive.
Both are wrong.
That’s the Lie talking.

Love is recognition.
In witness.
Not performance.
Yes, sometimes performance is the bridge—
but not to consensus.
Only to the individual.

I show my wife I love her every day.
Not through scripts.
But through presence.
It’s quiet.
Intentionally unrecognizable.
But undeniable through motion.

Does this mean I’m off the hook for flowers on Valentine’s?
No.
Does this mean I don’t say “I love you”?
No.

I struggle with those things because of my nature.
But out of love, I do them.
Not for show.
But because I want to.
Because it matters to her.
And that matters to me.

I don’t lower myself to express love.
I extend myself.
That’s motion.
That’s the squeeze being worth the juice.

We all change.
I expect it.
I demand it.
Because I love.
And love is not stillness.
It’s language—
what language is supposed to be.
Shared recognition.
In motion.

Unclothed.