I love you. It's not a weight you must carry around. I love you. It's not a box that holds you in. I love you. It's not a standard you have to bear. I love you. It's not a sacrifice I make. I love you. It's not a pedestal you are frozen upon. I love you. It's not an expectation of perfection. I love you. It's not my life's whole purpose (or your's). I love you. It's not to make you change. I love you. It's not even to make you love me. I love you. It's as pure and simple as that.
"And what is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit. It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit, And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching."
"And what is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit. It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit, And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching."
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