Love is my middle name

Middle names are the ones nobody uses. They sit on passports and hospital forms, quietly true, unmentioned for years at a stretch.

Which is a fair description of how love sits in most people. Not the loud first name you introduce yourself with, but the thing underneath, surfacing whenever the full record gets read out.

You don't have to feel especially loving today to be carrying it. Ask anyone who has watched you handle somebody else's bad news. Whatever they saw in you then had been there the whole time, in the middle, unused.