Love. There is no single word, no possible substitute that conveys more power, more feeling, than love.

To love a person. To hold them within your heart of hearts. Love is a force, stronger than any other emotion. And emotion, rules the soul. Love can move even the most callous to tears.

The name of my love is Heather.

And I shall write, and write, and write until the task is done. And because my love for her will never stop growing, will never stop changing or becoming greater, my words shall never stop. That I believe, is true love. Not some static amount that is given to the person. Nothing lasts forever, yet there is such a thing as eternal love. It is a cocoon that protects and shelters, a chrysalis for the butterfly to emerge from.

Love can be a butterfly, it can be a rose, a willow, an oak. It can even be a single drop of rain, giving life to a thirsty blade of grass. It can be all these things and more. Anything that has ever been called beautiful or breath-taking can be called love. That is why it shall never die.

When you first start to like a person, that love is a seed, an acorn, a piece of dandelion fluff on the wind, just waiting to find fertile ground. A life of it’s own in the making. And when the person, that special someone, reciprocates those feelings, the seed slowly blooms into a flame. Nothing quite lights a spark like new lovers.

This is a very short period of time, and while it fades in a way, it is always there. For that flame never goes out, it doesn’t simply fizzle! No! It becomes the sun. It becomes the ultimate life bringer, and it nourishes the young sprout. Alas that so many loose sight of this, thinking that all the plant needs is sun to survive.

New life needs water and fresh soil, it needs to be spoken to softly, sheltered from the heavy rain, and kept safe from those who might accidentally trample it. Then it can grow and thrive. Yet that would only be the beginning, only the start of something wondrous.

If the sun is beautiful, then how close to divinity would a willow tree be? Perhaps a grand old oak nearby. For love is never singular in nature. Even then though, it must not be allowed to whither and die. Through neglect it, and that just may happen.

Let us say that love is two dragons. Every day, the male brings the female a piece of gold for many years. Then, one day, he simply stops. What would become of the treasure? It would lose all value. For that value came not from the gold, but because each piece he brings, the male dragon is saying ‘I love you’.

For me, every time I tell my love that she’s amazing, that she’s wonderful, cute, adorable, snugly, sexy, witty, smart, an incredible artist, and simply the kindest creature to ever grace me with her beauty, I’m really saying ‘I love you’. And I know for her that it’s the same. I know that because her love is my love. There is no division, no point where my love for her meets her love of me.

There is simply our love.

Love is like any other living thing that needs to be nurtured, protected, and cherished with all of ones being. I make no apologies to any possible exploded hearts due to the sappiness of my words, what’s said has been said. And what has been said, is truth.

Heather, you are my Tree of Life, my darling dearest, my Night Flower, Moon Blossom, and all the other special names I have for you. Most of all though, our love shall never die.

And that is the greatest truth of all.
-Redwinter