The Quiet Kind Of Love

A love that isn’t loud, yet big, is my kind of love.

It might not be the type to walk in with flowers every day but it sure knows I love white orchids.

It should never hold a boombox over its head confessing love through an open window but leave me a piece of jewelry in a little surprise box.

A love that doesn’t leave me asking:

“Am I not good enough?”

As I lay here, in the comfort of my bed, looking at the phone and thought to myself “Why doesn’t anyone talk about this kind of love? The quiet kind of love.”

The “not shouting it from the rooftops” like you see in the movies, but the quiet kind.

The kind that whispers.

The kind that makes you feel warm and safe.

The kind that makes you realize you’re not in this mess called life, alone.

The kind that no one else would see as a big deal, but to you, it means the world.

The kind that lets me dot & spoil my partner shamelessly with reckless abandon.

I lay here and realize in this moment, that this is how I’ve always wanted and still want to be loved.

To be cared for.

To want to take little things off my plate.

To look for simple ways to make my life easier.

A love that may not bring me flowers often, but makes sure my prescriptions are filled.

A love that does not shout from the rooftops, but whispers to me by stopping at the grocery store after a hard day's work.

A love that may not always scatter rose petals all over the floor, but does “little” things, like this, reminding me to eat and what to eat because of my allergies, and it makes a world of a difference.

For me, the “little” things, they’re the big things.

The little, everyday, and mundane things that become my routine and help me to function properly, that’s where I truly see love.

IN ACTS OF SERVICE

IN WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

IN GIVING & RECEIVING GIFTS

IN QUALITY TIME

IN PHYSICAL TOUCH

A love that is quiet, and whispers to me.

And, I’m the only one who can hear it.