Let me preface and admit my own bias shaped by my love languages and gently remind you that love manifests differently for everyone. There is no singular "right" or "wrong" way to express it. The lucky ones find a person whose love language dances well with theirs. The right ones will work with you to learn how to dance with yours.
Someone loves you when
a trinket in a run-down shop makes them stop and smile,
because it looks like you, feels like you,
reminds them of how your laugh sounds on tired mornings.
They learn how you take your coffee—
no sugar, less cream—or that you can’t stand mushrooms,
and your favorite dessert always tastes like nostalgia.
And at restaurants, they’ll order the one thing they hate,
just because it’s the one thing you love.
When you wake them at 2 a.m., they don’t grumble—
they worry.
What’s wrong? Are you okay?
And they mean it.
You come home to a fridge that remembers you:
your favorite drinks, your go-to snacks.
They think of you in aisles of grocery stores
the way most people think of themselves.
They’ll let you ramble,
an hour, two hours, it doesn’t matter.
They’ll make the space to listen,
and you’ll know they’ve heard you
because somewhere down the line,
in ways both loud and quiet,
they’ll show you they’ve always understood you.
They’ll ask if you’ve eaten,
if you’re sleeping,
if you’re being kind to yourself.
(They’ll ask until it annoys you.)
They want you to win.
Not for them, but for you.
They’ll call you out when you’re wrong,
but gently,
because they believe in what you are,
not just what you could be.
They treat you with care
even when the end comes,
even when it hurts,
because love never leaves a person—it only changes form.
Someone who loves you doesn’t want anything from you.
They don’t take.
They just want you to be whole.
To be happy.
nicely said