I knew I was in love when I pulled his body from a car wreck. A semi truck hit us from the side, totalling my car and bruising my leg. I could barely walk, but all I could think of was getting him out of there. I dragged him out of a window and he felt weightless, pulled by something bigger than me. Before that moment, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, but then I knew: I was in love.
On the way home from the hospital, I laid my head on his shoulder in the backseat of my father’s car and whispered it into his ear. It have been the morphine drip talking, but at the moment, the ecstasy all felt the same.
To me, that’s what love was. It was the salvage after the crash. And on Reddit, respondents chimed in on what love means…
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