You, the twinkle in my eye. You, the lint in my belly button.

When I was little, I saw Tato look at Mamo adoringly (like he still does), or not want to do anything fun without her. Even when I asked him to do stuff with just me, he would say "okay, but let's see what Mamo's up to". It would infuriate me to no end, and I would roll my eyes and ask him "don't you ever just get sick of her? I mean really, it's been 20 years already!"

And he would look at me, and in his eyes I briefly saw flicker the years of sacrifice, compromise, arguments, hugs, kisses and unconditional love. And he very succinctly said "nope".

He explained to me (honestly, I pretended to listen, but at that age all I could hear was the fierce beating of my own heart, for I had fallen in love/lust for the very first time) that love changes shape. It grows, it quiets down, it deepens, it sweetens. But that he always sees the girl that he fell in love with (even if she was, according to him, "a personified nightmare the first few years").

I'm still in awe about this. Every couple we know that are in their 60s and are still happily married, are an inspiration in this world of cynical relationships and custody battles. And all of them say the same thing "Just love each other. Talk to each other. A relationship is like a plant: both of you have to water it to make sure it flourishes."

And when you open your eyes to it, it is everywhere: I read so many beautiful posts from you out there about how in love you are with your families, your children, your partners, your lives, and how it is a constant learning process.. and it fills me with so much joy to know that that kind of love and happiness is almost uncontainable (is that even a word? Who knows, I'll keep it anyway). I love love, I love magic, I love stories like this. I'm a loveaholic.

As for my personal life, I am awesome at the love part. And I clean really well and I manage to remember to get the little things for the house, for dinner, etc. And I can organise and do the banking really well. The talking part? Not so good at that very much, though I'm learning. And my history with plants is horrible. I forget to water them. Or, even if I do, they realise their impending demise anyway, and decide to commit suicide.

Love isn't a catch-all like it used to be in my 20s. I'm well aware that it's more about the quality of time together, rather than the quantity. It's not the declaration of a thousand "I love you"s, but more about that one "I love you" when you need it the most. It's about the space that you give for love to breathe. The amount of time that we cannot spend together makes the moments that we do super-sweet. I still crave his hand to hold when we're going for a walk. I love that we can make fun of each other and have banter with only a sly look.

And I do know for a fact that years from now, when Mamo and Tato are no longer around, and our children ask me that same question, I'll have the same answer.

Я вас так люблю.