plastered on the door of my closet
i am beginning to learn it is
and what it is not
love is not:
a 2am text
attachment
possession
telling me how to dress
a necklace with your name
lists of friends i can longer talk to
constant communication
lying about where i am
mocking my ambitions
formulaic
love is:
an 8am text
celebrating his achievements
accepting the past
patience
offering advice and support
a walk in the park (literally and metaphorically)
tulips
bookstores
fighting for causes together
candor
people love in different ways
but i like ours the best
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