If he couldn’t do the small things, how could he do the big things?
Silently, I begged for your eyes every night, but you chose the blue light.
I will not beg for softness anymore.
Love puts in the work after the spark, chosen in ordinary moments.
Passion that does not leave confusion on the nervous system.
Love should not make me abandon myself to keep it.
Instead, he would hold me tight until my tears stopped, he would tell me “we have all night to figure this out.”
His presence would pull me out of my head into his arms, and my mind goes quiet.
He would challenge me to live, be bold, stand out, be wild.
Trust would fuel the chemistry because he would sway me even before the night.
His eyes, touch, hands, reaping of desire to be close, not taking, but staying.
His patience, curiosity, effort, so **** raw, because he is vulnerable.
He teaches me to relearn love, because this love is here to stay never to shrink or abandon myself for ego.
In the grief, he stays, firm, capable, he reassures “I am not going anywhere.”
He throws out “I’m sorry” easily, so sure, worries disappear, his voice comforts.
Calm body, my mind is clear, he is direct, built on mutuality and respect.
He gave, I took, he took, I gave.
My safety, my love.
And nothing in me wonders if he will choose himself at the cost of us. Not even suddenly, because love deserves a voice before a goodbye.
7d ago
May 29, 2026 at 1:43 AM UTC
If he couldn’t do the small things, how could he do the big things?
Silently, I begged for your eyes every night, but you chose the blue light.
I will not beg for softness anymore.
Love puts in the work after the spark, chosen in ordinary moments.
Passion that does not leave confusion on the nervous system.
Love should not make me abandon myself to keep it.
Instead, he would hold me tight until my tears stopped, he would tell me “we have all night to figure this out.”
His presence would pull me out of my head into his arms, and my mind goes quiet.
He would challenge me to live, be bold, stand out, be wild.
Trust would fuel the chemistry because he would sway me even before the night.
His eyes, touch, hands, reaping of desire to be close, not taking, but staying.
His patience, curiosity, effort, so **** raw, because he is vulnerable.
He teaches me to relearn love, because this love is here to stay never to shrink or abandon myself for ego.
In the grief, he stays, firm, capable, he reassures “I am not going anywhere.”
He throws out “I’m sorry” easily, so sure, worries disappear, his voice comforts.
Calm body, my mind is clear, he is direct, built on mutuality and respect.
He gave, I took, he took, I gave.
My safety, my love.
And nothing in me wonders if he will choose himself at the cost of us. Not even suddenly, because love deserves a voice before a goodbye.
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