Real Love : The Kind That Stays When The Sparks Fade.

 Sometimes, if we’re honest with ourselves, we realize that what we’re truly in love with is not always the person — it’s the feeling. The magic. The dream. The way our heart flutters when they text, the way our loneliness temporarily disappears in their presence, the way we imagine they’ll complete the empty corners of our lives. We fall in love with the idea of being in love — with being chosen, understood, seen. And in that rush of emotion, we begin to project — building castles from conversations, weaving futures from glances, shaping someone into the perfect character for a story we’ve already written in our minds.

But people are not stories. They are not characters created for our comfort. They are complex, ever-changing, deeply human — full of contradictions, insecurities, wounds we don’t understand. And so, when the illusion wears thin — when the fairytale falters and the reality of who they are begins to emerge — we sometimes feel disillusioned, even disappointed. Not because they did something wrong, but because they stopped matching the version we created of them. And that’s when we realize: maybe it wasn’t them we were in love with. Maybe it was the feeling. Maybe it was the love itself.

Real love — the kind that stays when the sparks fade — is less about being intoxicated and more about choosing someone again and again, even on the ordinary days. It’s seeing someone’s worst and still staying kind. It’s loving the person, not just the poetry they once made us feel. So yes, many times we love love more than the people. Because love is beautiful, flawless, limitless in our minds — but people, people require patience. They demand effort. They come with baggage. They change. And the deepest act of love is to let go of the fantasy, and choose them still — not for how they make us feel, but for who they truly are.