I have spent the last day thinking about what exactly is love. So, of course being me, I first (again) looked up the definition. By the dictionary, love is deeply caring for someone, being devoted to them, taking a great interest in them, being protective of them. So – taking it from there – love is caring for people – having their concerns be your concerns. Knowing you would be beside them at just a word, even with the knowledge that they would not do the same for you. Love is being devoted to them, putting their needs ahead of your own. Love is showing interest in them, knowing their passions, caring about their sorrows and struggles, supporting them in their dreams. Love is wanting the best for them, being concerned about their wellbeing. So love, then, is shown by actively doing those things, by learning about pheasants, liking pictures of snakes, reading and trying to understand things that you may not agree with, but appreciating the heart behind them. Love is supporting the people you care about in their dreams, even as you might feel nobody understands your own. Love is encouraging them, helping in any way you can, believing in their ability to achieve their dreams, and letting them know that. And then love is sharing the excitements and hurts of others, praying for their successes as much as their safety, being concerned for their concerns, reveling in their joys. Love is doing those things, being actively participative in the happiness of another, to the best extent you can. This, in my mind… is love.