I feel as though I have no mandate to talk about love, but I'm going to anyway. I haven't had much luck with love, you see. I remember when the only girl I've ever dated in my short life walked out on me because I didn't use the word, among other things. She told me I had run out of time to tell her I loved her, so that was it. I was really sad, but I'm alright now; that was a while ago.
I remember when she said this that I asked her what love was, and she couldn't tell me. I did not think it was fair for her to demand my love when she didn't know what it was.
Which led me to think about what love means for a long, long time.
I'm choking on cliches, but I have found myself completely unable to define love outside of God. Or, at the very least, love in its purest form is exemplified by him.
Because after thinking, the best definition I have come up with is this: Love is when you have been with someone long enough to know who they really are, with all of their crud and after passion has faded, and decide that their innate worth is priceless even with these faults.
And the only way I know this is because it's how God figures with us.