Journal Entry: Love Without a Name

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been asked why I keep them in my life. The sighs, the raised eyebrows, the careful but pointed questions disguised as concern.

Why do you put up with them?

Why do you let them come back?

Why do you love them when they make it so hard?

I never have the kind of answer people are looking for. The neat, logical explanation that would fit into their understanding of love and relationships. Because what we have isn’t easy, and it sure as hell isn’t conventional. It’s not the kind of love that fits into categories like friendship, romance, family, it’s something else entirely. Something deeper, rawer, and maybe even a little messy. But it’s real. And that’s all that matters.

They are difficult. I won’t deny that.

They push people away before they can be abandoned.

Build walls faster than anyone can climb them,

And test love just to see if it will break.

They don’t make things simple. They don’t come wrapped in soft words and easy affection. No, their love is stubborn, sharp at the edges, and sometimes spoken in silence rather than sentiment.

But I see them.

I see the way they try, even when it doesn’t look like it to anyone else. I see the battle they fight every day against their own demons, the weight they carry that no one else seems to notice. I see the goodness in them, the tenderness that peeks through in fleeting moments, like the way they remember the little things, the way they show up in ways that matter even if they pretend it’s nothing.

I see the love they don’t know how to express in words but show in actions, small, unspoken gestures, quiet loyalty, the kind of presence that speaks volumes even when no words are exchanged.

And they see me.

They see the parts of me I keep hidden, the parts I don’t even fully understand myself. They see me on my worst days and stay. They don’t ask me to be anything other than what I am. They don’t demand explanations, they don’t force me to be “better” or “easier” just to fit into some expectation of what love should look like.

What we have is beyond definition, beyond the need for labels or validation. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t need to be explained because the only two people who truly understand it are the ones living it.

People don’t get it. They see difficulty, conflict, complication. They see someone who doesn’t always show up in the way love is expected to. They see someone who is hard to love. They see someone who isn't their version of "perfect" or good for me.

But love isn’t about easy. It’s not about perfect, seamless connections where nothing ever gets messy. Love is about staying, about understanding someone when no one else does, about holding onto something real even when it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.

And maybe that’s why people will never understand. Because they look for love in what’s smooth, effortless, predictable. And we, well, we don’t fit into that mold. We never have.

But I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Because at the end of the day, love isn’t about proving something to the world. It’s not about being understood by anyone else. It’s about knowing, in the deepest part of yourself, that no matter how complicated, how unconventional, how hard it may seem what we have is real.

And that is enough for me.