The real deal.
True love doesn't leave you hanging on for any morsel of reciprocation that might pacify your starving heart.
It doesn't keep you haplessly waiting for a non-committal text message,
Or leave you feasting on a maybe like a destitute devotee.
It doesn't beg or brag or bend over backwards for belonging,
Because it knows its own worth in the humblest of ways.
True love is an apple,
A rosy red braeburn that blushes with beauty and bursts with natural flavour.
It is sweet and bold and spicy and delicious.
And it shines so naturally that the whole world wants to come and take a bite.
True love is gentle and respectful.
It is harmless and harmonious,
Imperfect and hopeful.
True love is patient and forgiving.
And it holds us like a deck chair as we ease back into the relaxed version of ourselves that we always wanted to be.
True love laughs and lasts and lets you know that it's there.
And the funny thing is,
It always has been,
It's just that we can't see it until we choose to.
