LOVE and LOST

Falling

I did not mean to fall for you

love was not something

I was searching for.

And then you arrived,

soft as rain,

unexpected as spring after

a bitter winter,

and suddenly my guarded heart

began to bloom in places

I thought had long gone cold.

It was not only your smile,

or the way your eyes seemed to hold

both fire and gentleness

it was the way being near you

made the world feel quieter, safer

as though my restless soul

had finally found somewhere

it could set down its weight.

I fell in love

not in one dramatic moment,

but in a thousand quiet ones

in laughter shared,

in silences that felt full,

in the way my heart

began to reach for you

without asking permission.

And somewhere between

knowing your name

and knowing your soul,

you became

the most beautiful part

of my story.

-In Love

Being in love feels like

carrying sunlight beneath your skin

a quiet warmth that follows you

even on the coldest days.

It is finding music

in ordinary moments

in morning texts,

in fingertips brushing,

in laughter that lingers

long after the joke is over.

It is looking at one person

and somehow seeing

a thousand futures

soft mornings, hard seasons,

hands held through storms,

and a home built

inside each other’s hearts.

Love is tenderness

the kind that learns

your hidden scars

and kisses them gently,

the kind that stays

when life is messy,

when beauty fades,

when the world feels heavy.

And still

through all of it

you choose them.

Again.

And again.

And again.

That is what being in love is

Not just butterflies,

not just fire

but peace, passion, devotion

and the quiet miracle

of finding a soul

that feels like home.

-Attached

I became attached to you

the way roots cling to earth

quietly at first,

then so deeply

I could no longer tell

where I ended

and where you began.

You became part of my rhythm

the first thought in the morning,

the name my heart whispered

in quiet rooms,

the warmth I reached for

without even knowing I was cold.

It was in the little things

how every song carried your shadow,

how every beautiful thing

made me think,

I wish you were here to see this.

How even in crowded places,

some part of me

was always searching for you.

And loving you

was never just love

it was habit,

hunger, comfort need

a thread woven so tightly into my soul

that pulling it loose

would unravel pieces of me too.

If attachment is dangerous,

then I was willingly undone

because being close to you

felt like breathing,

and being without you

felt like learning how to live

without air.