Loving someone is an honor. Being there, seeing her smile, standing by her when everything feels heavy, offering support without asking for anything in return. It’s a privilege to share a conversation, a sofa, a glance, a smile. Life isn’t measured by grand gestures, but by steady presence, by the quiet care that needs no announcement, by the calm of knowing you’re exactly where you want to be.

Whoever doesn’t see that as an honor hasn’t understood what it means to love. Because love isn’t possession, it’s holding. It’s not expecting, it’s giving without calculation. It’s being. And in a world chasing everything superficial, that remains the most valuable thing one can offer.