Love isn’t something you have. It’s something that happens.

Most people don’t feel love—they feel attachment, anxiety, the relief of being chosen. Then they label it love because it’s easier than admitting they’re addicted to reinforcement.

Real love doesn’t play by those rules. It shows up without a reason and leaves without an apology. It doesn’t stay because you earned it. It doesn’t stretch because you want it to.

That’s the part no one wants to hear: love is in presence. Not permanence. The moment you try to turn it into something stable, it stops being what it was. It becomes control.

But people want control more than they want truth. So they perform. They shrink. They edit themselves into something that looks lovable, and call that connection. Then they wonder why it feels hollow.

Love isn’t hollow. But your idea of it might be.