I love you.

I've often sat on the sidelines of conversations and listened as friends of mine discussed love. How much they loved The Cure, how in love they were with their latest boyfriend. I've heard people say, "Oh, love, it's just a word, it doesn't mean anything". I've been on buses and overheard people ending phone calls with, "I love you". I've received cards and letters, all casually signed with love. Just four letters, side by side and I can almost guarantee, not a shred of thought or feeling behind them. 

I'm a thinker, an over-thinker. I have spent countless hours trying to figure out what love means to me. Today I found out. Everything.

Today, my mum told me that she loves me. Today. For the first time, ever. 

I don't love The Cure, or any guy who I'm gonna kiss for a few weeks and cry over into my cereal. I've never ended a phone call with "I love you". Love. I've been waiting to hear it for twenty years and it was worth every single second.