To have a caring and committed heart toward someone - a heart so firm in its devotion as to sooner stop beating than neglect the object of its desire despite the person's state of health, appearance, reputation, finances, troubles, or challenges - that, dear world, is love. It is a rare find.
When I reach out, you take my hand.
When I smile, you mirror the expression.
When I triumph, you glory as if it were your own.
When I fail, you point to the light at the end.
When I need, you tenderly provide.
When I cry, you kiss away my tears.
When I suffer, you bleed.
And you wonder why I love you?
To love is to accept a soul entirely, not wishing that the person was otherwise, nor hoping for change, nor clinging to some ideal past. To love is to cherish the individual standing before you presently―charms, quirks, and all. To love is to give someone a piece of your heart that you will never, ever reclaim.