The love you gave wasn't wasted; it was an investment in your own capacity to feel and to care deeply. That capacity remains within you, ready to be given to someone who will actually deserve your heart.

I don’t even know when it started. One day your laugh was just a sound, and the next it was the only music I wanted to hear for the rest of my life.

I really tried to pay attention today. But then I remembered your smile and suddenly the whole world became background noise.

You still reach for my hand in your sleep. After all these years, your unconscious mind still chooses me, and I have never felt more loved by anything in this world.

I’m not going to pretend I haven’t noticed the way you look at me. And I’m definitely not going to pretend I don’t want you to do it again closer this time.

You never asked me to unpack my past. You just quietly made space for all of it and whispered, stay exactly as you are.

You have no idea, do you? You pour coffee, you tuck your hair behind your ear, you laugh at something ordinary and I’m over here rewriting my entire future around you.

On a scale of one to ten, you’re a nine and I’m the one you’re missing.

Don’t ask me to be gentle,
because I don’t know
how to touch anything softly.
I hold things
the way the sea holds sand too tightly,
and then not at all.

But in between,
there is a moment
where everything is still,
and I swear
that’s where I keep you.

Not in the crashing,
not in the letting go,
but in the breath
right before both.
And if that scares you,
I understand.
The sea was never meant
to be something
you trust completely.

But it always comes back.
Even now.
Even when you’ve stopped
standing at the shore.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The most dangerous thing about you
is not the way you look.
It’s the leaning.
That small shift
when you talk to me,
just close enough
to make the air between us
feel like something I could lose.

And I don’t know
when it happened,
but somewhere in that space
I stopped knowing
which heartbeat was mine.
You didn’t cross a line.
You just stood so close to it
that the line
forgot it was there.

And now I carry
the weight of almost
almost touching,
almost yours,
almost gone.

Like two trees
that grew too close,
roots tangled underground
where no one can see,
holding each other up
without ever
deciding to.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I googled my symptoms: constant smiling, inability to concentrate, and a sudden interest in poetry.

Diagnosis : you.

I didn’t fall for you.
Falling is fast.
What happened was slower,
like rain soaking into soil
I didn’t notice
until you were already
part of everything
that grows in me.

You say my name
and something in me
straightens,
like a flower
that just remembered
where the sun was.
I wonder if you know
what you do
when you aren’t trying.
Because when you try,
I don’t stand a chance.

I want the ordinary with you.
Not the fireworks,
not the poetry
the quiet mornings
where your coffee gets cold
because you were talking to me,
the grocery lists,
the forgetting to lock the door.
I want the kind of love
that doesn't need
to perform.
Just you,
half asleep,
reaching for me
without opening your eyes.

If I could go back
to the moment before I met you,
I wouldn't change a thing.
But I'd tell myself
to pay closer attention.
Because I didn't know
that the most important person
in my life
was about to walk in
looking like
just another ordinary day.

We haven’t even touched, and somehow my skin already knows what yours would feel like. Some connections don’t need permission they just exist.

People will test us. Time will test us. But I chose you with open eyes and a full heart, and I don’t make that kind of decision lightly or temporarily.