As I cried my self to sleep last night I tried to remember what love looks like. My vision was blurry filling to the brim with water so I turned to my memory. Love to me has never been just one person. Love to me is all of my friendships. Love to me is my family. Love to me transcends that of bloodlines and memories. Love to me is a feeling of security without getting too comfortable to stop dreaming and wanting more. Love to me is unwarranted surprises and forgiveness in unexpected circumstances. I have yet to fully experience this kind of forgiving love but I believe it’s out there. I believe this love exists because even though I have yet to experiences it first hand I’ve witnessed it countless of times within the four walls I was raised.