The first time our eyes met and my poor heart skipped a beat, it wasn't love.

With trembling voice when I asked you out for coffee and surprisingly you said yes, and the euphoria I felt at that moment, it wasn't love.

When we held hands and the electrifying waves of emotions I felt wasn't quite love.

Love was when I got the visa acceptance letter and you congratulated me with teary eyes, although your heart was aching but still you smiled the brightest.

Love was when I walked up the stairs of the plane feeling like my heart was ripping out but deep down picturing a successful life for us.

Love wasn't when I first kissed her, love was when we face timed 500miles apart and I missed staring into those honey almond eyes.

Love wasn't in the wish we made at 11:11, it was everyday in our prayer for each other.

We found love in pain, in distance, in tears and every other thing that lovers frowned upon.

Love was never rainbows and butterflies, it was the sailor in the stormy night.