Let the hurt that went unspoken
Fade into nothing but a memory
So here's to second chances
And the girl who's gonna marry me
The world associates hearts with love. We buy giant pink boxes filled with chocolates for Valentine's day, or draw little hearts above our signature. People tell you to speak from the heart. And we've all had our hearts broken. But I don't think those things are what love is about at all. Love is in the choices we make every day. In the fragments of ourselves we give away for someone else to keep safe and hold close, and the shiny new pieces we find inside us because of it.
Love is the words we choose to say
It’s the poems we write every day
Whether they're intentional or just words strung together
Gone in a moment or immortalized forever
Whether they rhyme
Or not
I've studied them my whole life—the words of those who understood love best of all. But as I look down at the lyrics Bobby wrote on my coffee receipt a year ago, I can't help but think that this just might be my favorite poem of all.
