A Legendary Kind of Love

She had heard of a love one time that was breathtaking in its beauty. Because she heard of its legendary beauty in so many stories, she wasn’t sure if it was just a fantasy or if such a thing actually existed.

This love was noble. It was sacrificial because the other person was worth giving up their rights for. It fought battles – sometimes in the open, sometimes where no one could see – to protect the sacredness of its very existence.

This love was passionate. It wasn’t in your face, giggly, flirty eyes. It was electrified and alive with all of its desires, yet it was quiet and trusting, knowing that it didn’t need to flaunt this passion in everyone else’s face. It knew that it would still exist even if no one else knew about it – and sometimes that was the best way to keep it – as a delightful little secret that no one except the two of you ever knew the depths of.

This love pursued. Not in the dutiful way, but in the way that chased because it couldn’t live without the other person. If necessary, it would go to the ends of the earth to prove the depths of its devotion. It didn’t give up. Not even when things felt hopeless and nobody else believed. It believed – in happy endings. And it wouldn’t stop till that happy ending was reached. Dragons and all.

This love believed that a human love must be surpassed only by a Godward love. It believed that if first things were put first, then everything else fell into place and was made more beautiful because God was loved above all else. It believed that without God’s help, all our attempts at love on our own ultimately would fail.

It didn’t pretend to know everything. It realized that love is a growing process, and that you have to let the other person grow on their own and not force them to be who you want them to be. It accepted faults patiently and asked for forgiveness when the other person had been wronged.

It was often looked at as a fairy-tale, but this mythical version wasn’t the true picture of love. No, this love weathered storms of all types. Storms that brought tears and doubts and anger and impatience and dirty laundry and dirty dishes and late nights with a sick baby and not enough money to make ends meet and car break-downs and messy hair days and leftover dinners and lost tempers and lost keys …

It grew stronger from those storms. It learned to laugh in those storms and to face them together hand-in-hand because at least you weren’t facing them alone. And at the end of the day, you could look into at least one person’s eyes who believed in you. Who still thought you were the most beautiful person in the world even when all the make-up had worn off.

This love knew how to make memories. It knew how to have adventures and dream big. It knew how to accomplish those dreams, because with a love like that, you could practically conquer the world. It knew instantly when you were too hungry, it knew when it was time to just stay home, it knew not to say anything right then, it knew that the best cure for a headache and a bad attitude was the perfect song, a wee little back massage, and three little words. It knew you best.

And this love couldn’t imagine life without you in it.

Did such a love exist?

She’d like to believe it did. But for now, it was still only a fancy in the storey books.

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