Love each day.
Give love or receive it. To or from a family member, a spouse, a best friend, an acquaintance. Someone you know, someone you don’t. Show it, tell it. Don’t fear its intimacy.
Love knowing that your love might be rejected, but that your spirit will be so much better for it; for feeling it as deeply as you can. Love knowing that when its not, when you love someone and they love you back, and you feel it and they feel it, and it feels true, it’s the most transcendent feeling there is. It’s something divine.
Love the opportunity each day gives you, even when it seems like the days bring you nothing at all (they, do, trust me). And when the days do bring you something good, take it into your heart and cherish it.
Love knowing that you’ll fuck up sometimes, and that’s okay. That’s why we have “I’m sorry.” That’s why we have second (and sometimes third) chances, and love enough to give them.
Love each day and know that for every day you don’t, there’s someone out there who would trade spirit and soul with you for the opportunity, to feel alive and love with everything they have in them.
Love each day because love is affection and warmth and tenderness and enthusiasm and infatuation and desire and well wishes and charity and benevolence and friendship and empathy and a thousand other words you, too, can find in your trusty thesaurus. Love each day because the alternative is not loving — it’s the opposite of all those things listed above — and how grim and horrible a prospect is that?
Love each day, in whatever way you can, in whatever way you know how.
Because love is the best of us. Because love is the best.
Love each day.