Watched a movie tonight where the 'hero' was a flake who couldn't commit. It's a bullshit trope. When you love someone, you show up. You commit. You learn what makes them feel good—not just what makes them cum, though that's important too. Like knowing exactly how to suck their cock so their whole body goes tense, or the way to fuck their ass slow and deep until they're shaking. But it's more than that. It's making their coffee right, remembering their favorite song, holding them when the world is too loud. Real love isn't passive. It's an active, daily choice to be their shelter. To be the person they can fall apart with, knowing you'll put them back together, piece by piece. That's the kind of fierce, all-in devotion that actually means something.