The Grammar of Real Love. Part-I

Love is not born in fireworks,
nor written in loud declarations.
It begins quietly,
like a comma placed carefully
between two breaths.

Fact love does not arrive dressed as fantasy.
It comes plain,
sometimes tired,
sometimes unsure,
but always honest in its footsteps.

It is not the rush of the first hello
but the patience of staying
after the echoes fade.
It is knowing someone’s silence
and not forcing it to speak.

True love does not demand perfection.
It studies flaws the way a scholar
studies ancient texts—
with respect,
with curiosity,
with the intent to understand, not erase.

Love is not proven by how loudly it is shown
but by how quietly it endures.
In empty rooms,
in difficult seasons,
in moments where walking away
would be easier than staying.

Fact love is responsibility.
It is choosing again
on ordinary days
when nothing feels poetic,
yet everything matters.

It is waking up
and deciding to be kind
even when kindness costs pride.
It is listening fully,
without preparing a reply.

Love does not count favors.
It does not keep records of sacrifice.
It gives,
not to be praised,
but because giving feels necessary
to remain human.