“I used to think that love was a feeling,” he tells her, “but no, that’s not how it really is.”
“What is it then?” she asks.

“A choice,” he replies, “Love is a choice, a choice to put in your effort. Love is always a conscious commitment, not a sleepy confession during the night only to be taken for granted when the sun starts to shine the next day. It is a choice to help each other to grow, to be stronger.”
“Love is definitely not a drunk confession at 3AM, only to forget about it when you’re sober. Love is a choice to be with your special one through thick and thin, it’s no child’s play at all. Love is a choice to stay and never give up when things are tough. Love is a choice on both sides to get things to work, to find out what’s wrong, and to fix it.”

“So…” she says quietly, “…what’s your choice?”
A pause.
A look.
A smile.

“You.”