Love and other drugs

I’ve never been a fan of Valentine’s Day. I often find myself looking around and observing the thousands of dollars spent on extravagant roses and delicious candies, yet I can never quite understand why there is one specific day during the year when people go all out to shower their loved ones with such lavish affection. Nonetheless, as for me, I yearn for that everyday kind of love—something genuine and constant. I want the flowers you picked up just because you wanted to see me smile, not because society says it’s expected on a certain day. I long for the kind of love that steps in to handle the cooking on my most challenging days and reaches out to cuddle me without a single question during the dark, cold nights when I feel most vulnerable. I wish for someone who can see me in all my messy glory yet still chooses to stick around without hesitation. I want the one who meets me in the darkest depths of my depression, armed with a flashlight and a steady hand, ready to walk patiently by my side as we navigate our way towards brighter days together. My desire is for a love that truly stays—one that is unafraid to love me back wholeheartedly. A love that can grow and evolve, a love that becomes addictive in the best way possible. I seek someone who needs me to make their day brighter and who would go to great lengths just to reach me whenever I feel distant. I envision the one who would willingly give everything up for me, and when I am not around, they feel an undeniable craving for my presence until I am back in their system. I dream of a love that could live for me, die for me, and sacrifice anything and everything without a second thought. Perhaps it is toxic, but just once, I want my love to be their drug, something they simply cannot resist.