Love is never a multiple-choice question, let alone be framed by gender. It can be a cup of hot coffee handed over in the morning, a rain side by side in the middle of the night, or a shoulder that can rest at ease when tired - what does these warm appearances have to do with whether the person in love is him, her, or them?

Like itself is the purest answer. It has nothing to do with labels, only sincerity. When two hearts beat for each other, and when the light in their eyes only lights up for each other, such a rush is worth being treated gently. Love has no template, let alone a definition. Its existence itself is the best proof.