What love really is?

I didn’t know it was called love, until I started missing you on days I couldn’t meet you. I didn’t know it was called love, until you smiled at me, and I caught myself blushing for no reason at all. I didn’t know it was called love, until I started getting impatient when you didn’t reply. I didn’t know it was called love, until I found myself getting angry over the little things you said. I didn’t know it was called love, until I started day-dreaming about you, losing pieces of time in my own head. I didn’t know it was called love, until you held my hand, and the world quietly narrowed to just us two. They say love is patient, they say love is kind. Maybe it is. But maybe love is wanting one person more than anything else, and feeling a quiet warmth just because they’re near. Love is feeling at home in a person, and choosing them, every day.