I keep pretending this is small,
like it’s something I can fold up
& tuck away when people are watching.
But you,
you undo me.
In the quiet spaces,
in the seconds our hands meet,
in the way my name sounds different
when it comes from you.
This isn’t a mistake,
no matter how many times the world would say it is.
Because loving you
doesn’t feel reckless.
It feels inevitable.
Like we were always going to find this,
no matter how carefully we tried not to.
& maybe that’s the dangerous part.
That I’ve started thinking in impossible ways,
in “what if we left?”,
in roads with no destination,
in a life where no one gets to tell us no.
Where I could say it out loud,
without lowering my voice,
without checking who might hear.
I love you.
Not quietly,
not halfway,
not in a way that knows how to stop.
I love you enough
to imagine a world without everything else,
if it means I still get you.
So tell me I’m not the only one
thinking about running,
about choosing us.
Because if you are...
I think I would.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 9:52 PM UTC
I keep pretending this is small,
like it’s something I can fold up
& tuck away when people are watching.
But you,
you undo me.
In the quiet spaces,
in the seconds our hands meet,
in the way my name sounds different
when it comes from you.
This isn’t a mistake,
no matter how many times the world would say it is.
Because loving you
doesn’t feel reckless.
It feels inevitable.
Like we were always going to find this,
no matter how carefully we tried not to.
& maybe that’s the dangerous part.
That I’ve started thinking in impossible ways,
in “what if we left?”,
in roads with no destination,
in a life where no one gets to tell us no.
Where I could say it out loud,
without lowering my voice,
without checking who might hear.
I love you.
Not quietly,
not halfway,
not in a way that knows how to stop.
I love you enough
to imagine a world without everything else,
if it means I still get you.
So tell me I’m not the only one
thinking about running,
about choosing us.
Because if you are...
I think I would.
