Is love the happy quiet moments holding hands?
Or is it sticking through hard times that remain hard?
Is it the moments we feel on top of the world,
or those we refuse surrender for the other’s sake?
Why is it that we face life?
Why do we promise to accept the bad with the good?
If love is accepting both, is it rare?
It seems we are afraid to accept the hard moments
The same one who fears abandonment leaves —
Do we undervalue love?
What is more wonderful than staying
knowing that in all the world something, somewhere is safe.
Who would forget?
To forget would be to lose everything
To build a house with your own hands
Only to set it on fire and watch it burn
The house is secure and safe
So I will live there