Love is a verb. It doesn’t always resemble the curated love stories and the filtered and posed images we are bombarded with daily. It’s more than one dimensional. It’s a complicated action that takes on many forms. Sometimes love is gentle and meek. It looks like the way you help scoop up the pieces of daughter after her first real break up and remind her of her strength even thoughthe enemy is whispering lies of her weakness to her. It’s when you finally just give in and say, “I am sorry,” because you’re BOTH in the wrong, and being right never feels as good as it does when you’re enveloped…