Explosive

I always thought of love as something explosive.

I heard of love being big, and loud, and breath-taking. It was something that defined a person, something that made them who they were supposed to be and brought them their future.

Love could be painful, too, overbearing and ruining. It could be strong and fierce, as much as it could be gentle and kind.

But when I found love, it was... quiet. Rather than breath-taking, my love was a sigh of relief. A calm, soothing feeling that steadied my anxious heart and lulled my worried mind. With love, I found realisation and understanding.

The explosive, crazy, scary feeling I had expected to feel didn't come. But instead, the rocky waves of the sea of my life became a gentle current.

I felt like I had rediscovered myself, found a key to a place I had long forgotten. No longer did the words and the actions feel forced or strained; now, they felt natural, like breathing, or smiling.

I always thought of love as something explosive, but now I know what love really is.