I think we have our own definition of love. On high school, it might be “girl and boy are being young and cute (and stupid) together“, and three years later, we changed our mind and defined it as “finding our own home where we belong.”
Growing up then kidnapped us without telling the azimuth until we saw the horizon from another sides. It took us to a particular height to make us wiser. Maybe to the tallest temple in the city where we can pray out loud, maybe to the jetplane so we can invisibly cry a goodbye.
Then from such distance, we see love, as a million beautiful pieces of life.
Joy, laughter, prayer, teardrops, babies, wedding, flowers, understanding, sharing, caring, patience, struggle, trust, loyalty, kindness, plan, __________ (go up there, see what you can see, and write them down for yourself.)
I think at that point, we would fall in love with the love itself.