Love is when your snoring keeps me awake, and without your snoring I can't sleep either. It’s when I forget your birthday and our wedding anniversary, but I clearly remember that you don't like to eat celery and that you are allergic to cilantro. Love has never been grand; it’s not as passionate as it is portrayed in TV dramas. It is a poem written from the unnoticed details of life, and the ending of this poem is two elderly people with gray hair who never let go of each other's hands.