What does this mean?

There is an emotion in the world called "like" and the other is called "love"

Love is when he is around, he is the only one in his eyes; Everything has his shadow when he is away.

I like reading in the middle of the night and suddenly think of him. I imagine what he is doing now, and I feel a faint warmth in my heart, but I never take the initiative to call him. After a few minutes, the attention was attracted by the plot in the book again!

Love is on a lonely night, when thoughts pour in and you can't see the book in your hand. I wonder if he is still working overtime, whether he has already had dinner, and whether he is thinking about himself as much as he is thinking about him.

Love is arguing with him and sticking to him like a hedgehog, but in my heart I have secretly admired his insight and talent.

Love wants him to keep pace with himself and connect with his heart. A joke he accidentally said can make him depressed and even burst into tears in an instant. In front of him, he is never defenseless.

I like to send him short messages when I go out, telling him that the weather here is fine, then turning off my cell phone, playing alone in a strange place for a week, and suddenly appearing in front of him to scare him after being tanned.

Love is wanting to be with him wherever you go. You can call him at the seaside and let him listen to the sound of the waves; You can also stay where you are for a long time because you see a figure exactly like him on the street in a foreign land.

What I like is that he simply said "bon voyage" before going on a business trip. Looking at the back of his departure, is there a bad spring curtain in my heart? What is the burden of text editing? Is the emperor sad? But? Blow south?

Love is telling him before going on a business trip, stuffing clothes and food into his backpack and not leaving until the train arrives at the station. And in the days after he left, he was uneasy every day, praying over and over again that he could return safely.

Love is when you are hurt, you don't want him to see your fragile side, quietly wipe away your tears in front of him, and turn your head and still look happy and strong.

Love is crawling on his chest and crying when he is wronged, telling him all his troubles without hiding or worrying, eager to get comfort from his arms.

I like to eat KFC with him when he is tired of shopping on weekends. Is to grab a cup of hot coffee with him in the cold winter; Is to walk side by side with him in the street, always separated by half a meter; I played games with him in front of the computer, and they laughed like children.

Love is cooking a few good dishes for half a day at the weekend and watching him eat contentedly; It is in the cold winter that the water is continuously heated for his coffee cup; Is to walk with him in the street and let him hold his hand tightly; I sat quietly next to him and watched him concentrate on his work in front of the computer happily.

What I like is to listen to his funny stories when I was a child, and then laugh, which makes me feel inexplicably moved.

Love is listening to him tell interesting stories about his childhood, and then smiling, showing more pity for this once naughty man.

I like to meet him in the corridor, greet him happily, and then exchange a few simple greetings. When I passed by, I saw the bright sunshine outside the window, and my mood was inexplicably better.