Real love is raw, pure and breathtaking in its simplicity.
It’s a spiritual adventure, a f*cking crazy journey, a completely transformative experience.
Real love dives deep, looks directly into your soul, sees exactly who you are—and wouldn’t change a damn thing.
It cherishes the deliciousness of every perfectly imperfect part of you.
Because mostly, it just wants to gaze into your eyes and kiss your soul.
And never stop kissing your soul.
It wants to ask, “How are you?” and listen to every single syllable of the long-winded answer.
It wants to know your secrets and your shame, gently peeling back each shiny layer to get to your core.
Oh, how it longs to peak at your luscious core.
Real love grabs on fiercely and holds you hard as f*ck, but is wildly unafraid to set you free.
It’s intensely compassionate, unfreezing even the most stubborn icicles in your heart.
It helps you heal without even trying.
It has the courageousness of a brave soldier and the softness of a nurturing mother.
Real love takes a shit with the door wide open.
It forces you out of hiding.
Because the things you used to hide are the things it admires the most.
Real love bleeds truth, honesty and talks about the things you’re too scared to talk about.
But, most of all,
Real love doesn’t walk off into the sunset, it walks directly into your life.