Love.Not the kind you see in the movies or hear about on the radio.The real kind.The kind that gets beaten down and bloody, yet perseveres.The kind that hopes even when hope seems foolish.The kind that can forgive. The kind that believes in healing. The kind that can sit in silence and feel renewed.The real kind of love.It's rare and we have it...

She just keeps kissing my scars. Every scar. She knows about them all. She watched them all appear and heal. Sophie's lips against me make every punch, every kick, every wound, every scar worth it.

Gifts are not things that you earn or deserve they are a way for the giver to show their appreciation for you and Daren, you are a part of my family

I'm still angry with him, but I follow him through the drizzle anyway. Because this is Levi. This is my hero. And you always follow your heroes, even when you're mad, even when you'd rather punch them in the mouth. That's how trust works. It's blind and unconditional and it takes you places you can't reach by yourself.Just like love.

But you can't be afraid to love." She looks at me seriously. "Love isn't safe and life isn't guaranteed. So yeah, I could die and you could lose Levi and your heart could hurt again, but that's just life. The only alternative--Sarah, look at me--the only alternative is living without fully loving anyone else. And that's not living at all.

Real love isn't something you plan or earn, it's something that just hits you -like a bolt of lightning- and changes you forever.

Because money without love is complete poverty. And poverty with love, well that's pure wealth.

Is this what love is? This painful, unhinged thing? This polarizing madness that swings from joyous to suffering in the blink of an eye? And if so, why do we let it consume us the way it does? Why do we so willingly surrender to its violent currents and unpredictable winds?