When Love Isn’t Logical, But You Choose Anyway

What is love?

It’s not fireworks. It’s not late-night texts with heart emojis. It’s not the perfect match that fits like a puzzle piece. Love, for me, is far messier than that. It’s standing at a crossroads every day and still turning toward the same person — even when your mind whispers that the road might lead nowhere.

She isn’t the easiest person to love. Not because she does anything wrong, but because life with her doesn’t come with promises. There’s no clear ending, no fairytale wrapping. We’re two people with different trajectories, different ways of thinking, sometimes different worlds. And yet, I find myself constantly drawn back.

I’ve told myself it probably won’t work — maybe because of timing, maybe because we misunderstand each other too often, or maybe just because the stars don’t align like they do in the stories. But then again, love doesn’t ask for guarantees. It just asks for presence. Consistency. Intent.

I’ve tried to reason with myself. Tried to convince my heart to be more practical, more safe. But love doesn’t always play by the rules of logic. Sometimes, it’s not about choosing the person who makes the most sense. It’s about choosing the one who feels like home — even if the walls are cracked, even if the roof leaks when it rains.

You don’t keep choosing someone because it’s easy. You do it because something in you believes she’s worth the effort. Not the idea of her, not the version of her that your mind edits — but her, in all her contradictions.

And sure, there are days when doubt creeps in, when silence hurts more than words, and when you wonder if you’re the only one trying. But even then, something as quiet as her laughter in your memory can turn everything around.

That’s love, at least to me. Not a flawless equation that always balances, but a stubborn decision to care for someone even when it’s complicated. Especially when it’s complicated.

So maybe it won’t end the way I want. Maybe we’ll drift. Or maybe we’ll make it. But until then — I’ll keep showing up. Not because I think it’ll work out. But because it’s her.

And that’s reason enough.