There are still days when I can’t fully understand how someone like you found your way to me — not by accident, not in passing, but with intention so gentle and real it softened parts of me I thought would remain guarded forever. Loving you has never felt like learning something new; it has always felt like remembering something I had been waiting for my whole life.
I think about that night — August 2nd — the first time you held my hand. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt like something inside me finally came home. I remember the warmth of your fingers against mine, the quiet certainty in the way you held me, as if you were saying without words, “You’re safe here.” In that moment, something in me unclenched — something that had waited so long to be chosen that softly. I had never realized how starved I was for tenderness until you gave it without hesitation.
And then our first kiss — I can still feel it as if it is happening in the present moment. You didn’t just kiss me; you stole the breath from my lungs in the gentlest way possible. I remember clinging to your shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me to this earth. My knees went weak, and time blurred around us — it was the kind of kiss that didn’t just touch my lips, it reached every quiet place inside me I had forgotten how to feel with. For the first time, I wasn’t just being kissed; I was being held, chosen, gathered.
You don’t love me loudly — you love me steadily.
You don’t make me feel wanted just in flashes — you make me feel wanted in the in-between moments too, where most people stop trying.
With you, home is not a place — it is the space between your arms and the calm of your voice. It is knowing that even in silence, I am understood. It is the certainty that I am not loved for what I pretend to be, but for who I am when I finally allow myself to be soft.
You are worth every moment I waited, every heartbreak I endured before you, every silent longing I carried in my chest before I even knew your name. You are worth it — so worth it — not because you fix me, but because you love me in ways that remind me I was never broken beyond repair.
Thank you for holding my soul the way you first held my hand — softly, securely, like you know it belongs with you. Thank you for every breathless moment, every quiet tenderness, every piece of myself you’ve helped me reclaim simply by loving me as I am.
I don’t know what tomorrow looks like, but I know this:
wherever there is you, there is home.
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