In honour of February being the month of heart shaped chocolates and Valentine cards, I reflected on the handful of moments throughout my life when ‘love’ arrived in various forms.

I always find it interesting when adults tell teenagers that they are ‘too young to be in love’ or ‘not old enough to know what love really is’. Do we, as adults, know what love really is either? For me, love has been different every time I have found it. So with that in mind, I wrote a poem. Happy Valentine’s Day!

What Was Love?

Love was a game
Of handstands, dusty bluebells
And kiss chase across the playground.
Love was a chance
To have a wedding at school
With gummy rings, sticky on our grubby hands.

Love was gross
For a time: “yuck, germs, no returns!”
Running away from each other. But –
Love was patient
And waited for us to love again,
With candy hearts and lollipop kisses.

Love was a heart
Of tissue paper, glued clumsily,
In a badly folded card.
Love was a non-existent kiss,
Too embarrassed
To take place behind the school shed.

Love was missing
For a while: love was in another school,
A blushing smile at the end of term disco.
Love was terrifying,
A mix of raging hormones
And not knowing how to talk.

Love was a friendship
Blossoming into something new
Under a firework sky.
Love was braces
Knocking against teeth
At a crowded house party.

Love was greedy
And confusing, not knowing
Who to choose or what to do.
Love was butterflies,
Holding hands, running,
Kissing in the rain.

Love was pain
Stabbing in my chest
Like my heart was really breaking.
Love was tears,
Sobbing into my pillow
Before falling into a restless sleep.

Love was unexpected –
A drunken confession
Before an unlabelled romance began.
Love was a secret,
A fondle on the couch
Before Love’s Mum walked in.

Love was unrequited.
A fleeting fancy,
A coy glance across a stage.
Love was silly
And would never have become
Anything at all.

Love was quick.
Two weeks of flirting
Turned into four years of…
Love was gone,
Along with it, any understanding
Of how it had been there in the first place.

Love was an adventure
Of swinging through the trees
And dancing on the beach.
Love was disappointing
And sad when a friendship
Was, inexplicably, lost.

And then Love was music
In a leather jacket with tattoos,
And a red wine spill on a new shirt.
And then Love was a delayed kiss
On New Year’s Eve,
Better late than never.

Love can be passion:
Our souls sparkling together,
With every touch.
Love can be hard,
Our words hurting,
A battle of differences.

Love is peace,
Arms tangled around each other,
Quiet, still, together.
Love comes and goes
In many forms, but, I hope
This time, it is here to stay.

By Amy McIntosh