Deep love is what remains when the butterflies die of old age. It is not the frantic pulse of infatuation, but the steady rhythm of a heart that has decided to stay. Deeply is changing a bandage after a surgery. It is listening to the same story for the tenth time because they need to tell it. It is sitting in silence that isn't awkward, but sacred.
Most relationships begin as a gallery opening. We hang our best selves on the wall: the funny anecdotes, the polished hobbies, the edited version of our past. We laugh at jokes we don’t find funny. We hide the fact that we cry during car commercials or that we still sleep with a childhood stuffed animal.
To love truly is to stop performing.
Loving madly is driving forty minutes just to bring them their favorite coffee. It is staying up until 2 AM arguing about whether a hot dog is a sandwich. It is the irrational surge of pride when they accomplish something small, and the disproportionate grief when they stub their toe.
We live in an age of surface-level connection. We have hundreds of "friends" and very few witnesses to our lives. To love deeply is to dig past the surface level of "How was your day?" and into the soil of "How are you really feeling?" It is choosing the difficult work of repair over the easy thrill of replacement. truly. madly. deeply
"Truly" is the agreement to take down the gallery and let someone see the storage room. It is saying, "I am not always kind. I am scared of failure. Sometimes I am boring." To be loved truly is to be known—not for your potential, or your highlight reel, but for your actual, flawed, breathing self. It is the quiet trust that comes when you no longer have to translate your soul into a language you think the other person wants to hear.
If "truly" is the truth and "madly" is the fire, "deeply" is the root system. Deep love is what remains when the butterflies
It sounds like the title of a 90s romance novel or a lyric you’d scribble in a diary you hide under your mattress. It is vulnerable. It is excessive. And in a world that worships cynicism and ironic detachment, it is the most rebellious promise you can make.