I think love is a very quiet thing.
It is a decision, a commitment, a promise. A murmur of affection, a quiet evening spent in companionable silence. And it is also something soft and warm that sleeps with you at night. I know because I made this promise to myself. My love of myself, as tenuous as it is, is necessary. I keep myself warm with thoughts of forgiveness and understanding of myself and my shortcomings. I may be left bewildered by how I manage to make so many mistakes, but I find ways to say to myself, it’s okay. Try again. If some days are harder than others, then that’s okay too. But I will try to remember that even on the coldest winter nights, I managed to remember that I deserve my love more than anyone else.
So, to my own heart, I love you.