Love Was Written

Mara, I was going to stay home tonight. I had it all planned out.. me, my couch, my blanket, that show I've been rewatching for the fourth time because I can't seem to commit to anything new. And then you texted "come out?". And my first instinct was no. No because I'd have to put on real pants. No because people are exhausting. No because I'm safer inside my little bubble where nothing unpredictable happens. But then I thought of you waiting for me somewhere, checking the door every time it opened. And suddenly the bubble didn't feel like safety. It felt like missing something. You make me want to try. And I don't mean in the cliche "you make me a better person" way.. I mean actually try. To show up. To be present. To say yes to things I'd usually find excuses to avoid. I'm not built for "yes." I'm built for rescheduling, for "maybe next week," for staying home because the idea of doing something is heavier th...

You, We didn't even speak. You were standing in line for coffee, green coat buttoned up wrong, hair still wet from the rain. I don't know why my chest tightened like that. You just.. existed. And somehow that felt like enough to rearrange me. I keep thinking about how your hands wrapped around the paper cup, how you looked down when you smiled at the barista, how your shoelace was untied but you didn't notice. These are not important things. And yet they feel like everything. How am I supposed to look away now that I've seen you? Not just your face, but the small things that make you you. The details that feel stolen. I don't know you. I don't know your name or what you were drinking. But in the seconds before you left, you glanced my way, and it felt like the whole city went quiet. Maybe you forgot me before you reached the next block. But I'm still here, writing this on a moving bus like some cliche, trying to capture something I was never supposed to keep...

Ash, You're asleep right now. Well.. maybe. Your breathing is slower but sometimes you fake it to mess with me. It's 12:38am and I should be sleeping too but I'm just.. looking at you. The little crease between your eyebrows is still there. You get it when you're dreaming about something intense. I wanna smooth it out but I also don't wanna wake you up. I was just thinking.. this is it. This is the place. Not the apartment, not the bed, not the way the window's cracked open a little too far so the air's cold on my arm. I mean here. With you. Where we are is where I always want to be. And that's not something I've been able to say about anyone before. Usually I'm thinking about the next thing, the exit, the escape plan. But with you, I forget to look for the door. Earlier tonight you made me tea without asking. You didn't even say anything about it. Just set it down next to me while I was scrolling on my phone. It was the exact way I like it. ...