All the most powerful and wondrous things of living and being human cause language to falter and stumble short. The ways of the heart are not a language at all, but a territory. A place, wild and untamed where we find our home in each other and reside, sometimes like beasts and sometimes like flowers.
Enumerations that try to pull back the veil on love are feeble attempts to list mysteries. But, we should do it for each other, nonetheless, to remember what lasts and remember how the happiness of love is had in moments and short fits.
Outside of those moments, we have remembrances to help us map our way back to what is real. What is us.