I came to realise that love is a word prominent singers, celebrated writers and, perhaps, even the wealthiest person struggle to define. When my freshly-single friends asked what love is, I often shrugged (or even scoffed at the idea of love, pardon my scepticism) before replying, “How am I supposed to know?”

Now I know. Last year, I met someone who defined love for me.

“What do you look for in a guy?” he interrupted my habitual but half-hearted whines of singlehood.

I scoffed at that question. Too easy. I always imagined myself loving a guy with great hair, good looks, an amazing personality, someone who holds a proper job... The list could go on. And I answered as such. I wanted someone who fits in at least 80% of what I’m looking for.

“That’s not love,” he prompty dismissed my list. “That’s fulfilling your wants.”

He proceeded to a personal story and, whether true or not, it stuck with me.

Love is being there in times of need. Love is not what he can do for me but what I can do for my partner, because love is selfless. Love is caring for someone unconditionally. Love is staying and working things out no matter how difficult the situation gets, because love is always worth it.