Painted nails

Love, when have I ever spoken about it?
I've been asked many times what love means, and all I can say is that it's something unexplainable. It isn't dependance, it isn't control, love to me is a feeling of complete safety and care.
When you're walking down the street with that special person you feel safe anytime of the day, and even if you don't you stick it out and make them feel safe.
I've come through different situations, controlling "love" and emotions of misunderstanding. I've "loved" too much, but have I really? Were those people I've been with what love really is? Did I even try to understand love?
I doubt it, sometimes the right song or circumstance, scenery, made me say empty words. I hated that.

I've got something to say, I want to say I love you. I've said it to you many times, and I'll say it again.
I want to only say it with meaning, no empty words, no reminders. Just actions.
Am I ready to give myself in? I have already done that. Scary, but it's a decision I've come to decide on my own.

No matter how rainy, or snowy it is, I'll be there until you tell me to stop.
I'll be there until I can't physically move.
There are many leaves flowing through the sky.
They travel long distances, to you and to me.
There are many clouds flowing and passing by, to you and me.
The scent of 'you' travels along with me anywhere I go.
Even if you're here or not, I take it along.
It follows me when I don't think sometimes.
It reminds me that you're with me even when I cannot see.
And I,
Have I finally woken up?