There’s this one kind of love that’s just there. It’s not fake. It’s not genuine. It’s just love. It exists in some corner and you can feel it. Its like you care but you dont. You feel good when you show that love, when you recieve that love. But its nothing special. Its just there. Sometimes you wish there was something more to the love. But it takes an effort. An effort that comes naturally, otherwise. An effort that comes, yet not for everyone. Sometimes you feel that there is a high chance that its pretentious. That you’re a fake person inside out and you’re playing with people’s feelings. But thats not true you know. Not every conflict that the conscience echos is true. You’re not fake. You’re probably just sensible enough to maintain a healthy relationship with everyone you meet. Some are as close as family, some really good friends, and for some the love is just there. It exists. You acknowledge its presence but you choose not to do anything about it. Because thats the extra effort. And extra effort when not natural, can only be fake. Therefore, that love is just there. It. Exists.