Today was busy from minute one. Internship, two musical rehearsals, homework—I’m finally sitting down now, and my apartment is quiet and empty except for college town sounds that filter through the screened window. Today I feel blessed—not despite the stress and busyness, but because of it. Today, for no particular reason, I feel unfathomably loved. On a day where couples post sweet pictures and romantic captions, perhaps lavishing each other with lovely words and gifts, I—a single person— feel incredibly love and incredible joy. If at age 12 or 13 you had told me I would be 22 and still very single, I would have felt sad and disappointed. I would wonder how I would have made it that far without a boyfriend. I would have perhaps bemoaned my lack of relationship and my always-singleness. Yes, every year passes, and my so-called “season of singleness” stretches on and on, until it feels less like a temporary season and more like a lifetime. And I know, at 22, that I am still very young and if God wills it, this season might go on for many more years. Sometimes this makes me sad. Sometimes I feel hopeless, sometimes I even feel angry. I have felt deeply, painfully heartbroken. Unlovable. Ignored. But today, I feel something different. Love unspeakable, love overflowing in cracks and corners and crevices. Not that kind of love that is shiny red Mylar balloons or heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, and not that kind of love that is mushy words or long hugs or changing your relationship status on Facebook. Today I feel a my-cup-runneth-over love, a love bursting at the seams of consciousness. A love incomprehensible—a perfect love. I feel surrounded today in that kind of love, and friends— it is like beauty piercing through the darkness.